


Home Coming

by Ice_Prince1, VanessaSQuest



Series: Threads in the Darkness [6]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-01
Updated: 2011-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-25 14:23:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ice_Prince1/pseuds/Ice_Prince1, https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanessaSQuest/pseuds/VanessaSQuest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Horrible murders during home invasion crimes gets the attention of the BAU.  Hotch, Reid and Jack go househunting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Writing2death, thank you so much. Multi-Chapter

Homecoming

Reid sat nervously in Hotch’s office, not sure why his boss had called him in. Hotch was on the phone; the man lived on the phone, so Reid waited.  
Hotch stood, obviously he was trying to end the call. “Yes, sir, I will take care of that. Of course, no problem, I will look into it personally. Thank you, yes I do appreciate your faith in me and my team.”

He was silent for a moment, “Yes, thank you, yes. Of course sir, Agent Jareau is getting ready to present the case. Yes, Jack’s doing great, and the girls, sir? Good. Thank you, sir. Yes, goodbye.” He lowered the phone to the cradle and brought his hand back up to his forehead, he rubbed at this head and eyes. He took a deep breath.

“Your friend in Washington?” Reid said, knowing that reaction was usually only to one person in Hotch’s life.

Hotch nodded. He straightened his jacket. Reid always called that ‘straightening the armor’ and Hotch looked up with a smile. “So I have news.”

Reid frowned quickly and looked at the phone.

“No, not that. It’s the Townhouse, there’s an offer on it.”

“Wha...what? What happened to the collapsed housing market?”

“I know, but it means we have to go house hunting.”

“You mean like now?”

“This weekend.” He frowned at Spencer. “It’s okay isn’t it? You did say you’d like a home with me.”

“I liked the townhouse, already.”

Hotch felt the world start to collapse around him. He’d been sure this would make Reid happy. “I..I thought it’d make you happy.” His frown felt desperate.

Reid moved to the window and drew the blinds. As he turned he caught Aaron’s hands. “I am happy, I am. I just didn’t expect it so soon. Are you sure? You and me?”

“I love you. I want us to have a home we choose together. Well, the three of us.”

“Yes, please. You know I haven’t really lived in a house that was mine. When I was little we had a house, but after dad left we moved from one apartment to another.”

Hotch smiled, relieved. “So tonight we’ll have a family meeting?”

“That’s amazing, yes. You know I take care of my mom? We’ll have to have a budget…”

Hotch bit his lip. “There’re some things we need to talk about, before we talk with Jack. So think about what you really want in a house, okay?”

Reid nodded. “I’ll make a list.”

He walked back to his desk with a smile. He sat and stared at the files in his in-basket. Morgan gave him a look.

“What’s up with you, Pretty Boy?”

“I’m going to buy a house.”

“Excellent move, you need help you call me, okay? I got a good contractor if you get one that needs it.”

“Thanks Morgan… I don’t even know what I want in a house.”

Morgan looked up to Hotch’s office. “You’re going to need a good school district right?”

Spencer grinned and nodded. He was in the clouds.

“You better come down to earth, those real estate brokers will see you coming.”

“We’re going this weekend.”

“Closer to Quantico?”

“I think so, I’m not sure though. I don’t care, it’s going to be home.”

Morgan grinned at his friend. “Yeah, seriously if you guys need any help- you call me, got it?”

“Thanks Morgan. I better get back to work if I want this weekend free.”

Reid picked up the first file from his pile but just stared at it. He picked up a small writing tablet and wrote on it.

Number 1: Good school district

Number 2: DC or Virginia

Number 3: Place for books

Number 4: Master suite

Number 5: Outside Reading Area

He sat thinking; he’d have to rely a lot on Hotch knowing what a good house was. He figured he’d know more about all that. Apartments were easier.

CM

Hotch sat at his desk for a moment and forced himself not to look down into the bullpen to watch Reid’s reaction to the news. He smiled to himself and wondered if Reid would be ready for all the news he had to share with him. They’d never really discussed money before. It was going to be interesting.

He typed into the computer his list of wants for the house;

Closer to Jess

Out of DC / closer to work 20-30 minutes

Updated plumbing and electricity – no fuses

Traditional – see how Spencer feels about older homes

Ready to move in – no contingencies

3 or 4 bedrooms?

Room for books / office

Kids in the neighborhood

Good light

Backyard / Gardener?

He saved the file. He’d add to it later.

CM

Prentiss flipped open one of the three case-folders on her desk. The two victims included had been within a day of each other. The murders had taken place in different parts of town, but within the same demographics.

Cause of death had been… messy. Bludgeon-deaths were indicators for high rage, and yet, there didn’t appear to be anything personal about the crime-scenes. The victims didn’t have any points of real intersection in their lives. The first victim, Tyrone Adams, was a successful entrepreneur who worked in the medical devices industry. He ran his inventory from his home and had a small staff that ran his warehouse while he ran the front-end of the business. He lived in an upscale middle-class neighborhood with a gross income range of 130K household income. The majority of the injuries had been to the back of his head and then post-mortem to his chest and throat.

The second victim, Ana Redkins, who reported under her maiden name of Ana Shernov, lived in an equally upper-middle class neighborhood. Household annual income was around 150K for the area, her security system had been deactivated, and she had been bludgeoned to death. Most of the wounds she had received were to the face and head, but post-mortem the over-kill had surpassed Tyrone’s substantially. She had been beaten so severely the coroners were hard pressed to find a bone not broken in her chest, back, and arms.

Crime scene investigations revealed the homes were broken into with sophisticated techniques, but were hard-pressed to give point of entry.

It was either a spree killer coming to life, a serial killer already rapidly devolving, or a strange mixture of both. The home invasion skills made her think there somehow had to be more in the history, but she knew this would be the case the team would have to go for next.

She stood from her chair and blew at Reid’s ear as she walked by. “Dr. Spencer Reid, are you slacking off at work?” She smiled. He was… actually making a list- she could have sworn she read ‘Number 5-Outside reading area’ before he covered up his steno-pad and blushed.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to take you from it. I’ve got to go up to Hotch, I think we have our next case.” She nudged the file-folder and gave Morgan a look behind her.

“Where is it out of?” Reid asked.

“Eastchester, New York. Over the past two days, two people were bludgeoned to death, there’s escalation there too. I think this is only going to get worse.”

After a few minutes in Hotch’s office, Prentiss left to walk back to her chair as Hotch announced to the bullpen, “Wheels up in forty.”

CM

On the ground, the team quickly met up with two homicide detectives, Clara Bly and Jose Gutierez.

After a round of introductions started by Hotch, the team proceeded to the station.

“…So, I know you guys just got here, but my partner and I, we were thinking this isn’t our normal homicide. See, even the city troubles that come up here… it’s not how it’s done. Sure we get the occasional drug-related homicide, but- those are gun deaths. We don’t get people beaten to death in their houses at random. Domestic abuse, maybe it’ll be physical- but even that- I’ve never seen someone do that to a person’s face.” Detective Bly shook her head, “I’ve been doing this job for ten years, and I just haven’t seen this level of anger.”

Morgan looked at Detective Bly and smiled sympathetically, as a former cop he had wondered about something, “This happened two days ago- this might sound frank but I’m asking because you’re the front line, you see patterns that we might not get to see—what about this made you not wait to call in for help from us?”

Detective Gutierez let out a snort of a laugh and smiled, “Agent Morgan, between us, we have over 30 years of experience in police-work. Clara here used to be in vice before she made the move to homicide, but me? I was involved in burglary. This guy- he’s too good to be breaking in to murder. That’s not where these skills are from. We got a pro cat-burglar who just turned pro killer. His skills aren’t gonna make anyone feel safe until his ass is in booking. He killed a high-ranking reporter for NYC channel 5 news. She might not be a celebrity on the global level, but we have heat. Worse, she just did a special about the rise in home invasions and then poof. Our first vic was killed, then the next day she was.”

Reid’s eyes went wide, “Wait, when you say she had an editorial about that- what was the time that aired?”

“It was the 11 O’Clock top story. She did a piece about this one cat who’s been robbing the middle-class and painted a not-too-kind view about this jerk stealing from hard-working folks and taking the easy way out. Now, I get the economy, I do- and I know desperate people, but desperate people aren’t the sort of people with these skill-sets. Our perp disabled three alarm systems, one surveillance system, and broke into houses with high-end locks, I mean, this isn’t a chain and a bolt-cutter. And from what I can tell, it didn’t take him much too long. My partner has a theory but we’re waiting to hear back to see if it holds water.”

JJ locked eyes with Detective Bly, “A theory?”

“…Well, the first house had a for-sale sign up, and realtors use key boxes, now he sold his house… three weeks ago, but if this guy was casing joints- if he really is a cat burglar- he’d get those keys, have an easy in, and then just have to worry about the security. He killed the owner before the new family moved in, so- ya know, he might have just been waiting… I dunno, I just have a hunch this isn’t what the guy came in to do. Not the first vic.”

“…The prior home invasions, do you have any that you’ve linked to him so far?” Reid licked his lips, “There are different variables to each home-robbery as I’m sure you know, but if his signature is tied to those crimes it could help a lot.”  
Morgan was already dialing Garcia as the detectives considered it.

Back at the station, Reid’s wish for information on home invasions was granted in the form of seven case-boxes dropped on the desk he chose to drop his bag.

“…As I said, we get desperation, we don’t get those skills and that though. These are the cliff-notes of our BNEs for the past two months. Have fun.”

“Wait, wait, that’s only two months…? I need to go back at least six.”

One of the detectives let out an airy laugh, “Kid, there’s 7 case boxes… trust me, we have time to…”

Reid flipped the first lid down and took up a file, read through the fifty pages within it in the first minute before looking up, “Yeah, I need the files for the full six months, and to know where your coffee pot is. Hotch, I’ll be de-piling.”

The older man nodded, “Let me know what you get out of it. Prentiss, work victimology, JJ and Morgan, crime scene 1, Rossi you’re with me, we’ll go to the second crime scene. Reid, keep lines open with Garcia and see what you both pull for a pattern.”

Reid nodded as he finished the fourth file. He tacked up a map and put in a push-pin. “Alright.”

CM

Hotch and JJ walked back into the station each carrying copious amounts of food, bagged up. Hotch glanced at the clock on the wall, it was 10 PM, and within the next few hours there was a very really possibility that they’d be called out to another murder.

Reid looked half dead, surrounded by over twenty case-boxes, only one was left un-opened, but he had stopped putting pins into the map over an hour ago. He downed another coffee and glared at the image in front of him. There was a pattern in the strikes, he knew it, he just… couldn’t see it.

Hotch gestured to one of the bags in his hands toward Reid, “Take a break, eat something, then go back to it. If you keel over, we’re still not going to find the pattern.”

With that, he peeled himself back from the chair and trudged to the break room where the others had converged.

Half-through a sub, Reid watched as Prentiss, Morgan, and Rossi exchange what they found from the different crime scenes and victims.

“Well, the victims were in completely different social circles, but they were on the same level. By all accounts, Mr. Adams was a stand-up guy- he didn’t have kids, but he was close to his family. Never married, but he was in a long-term relationship with a woman he met through his church, they were together for a few years, apparently it was going well, and he was buying a home that they could share together before he took the plunge to ask her to marry her. That’s what his brother implied.”

“The girlfriend confirmed they were planning to move in together. Mr. Adams had a double BA, one in IT and one in management. He went to SUNY Stony Brook, graduated 8 years ago. He started his business while he was in undergrad. He was ambitious, and charitable. He did volunteer with urban out-reach programs and he took urban kids out camping to give them a greater view of the world, also taught swimming to urban youths. He was a role-model.”

“Mrs. Redkins was also impressive, she graduated with a Masters in Journalism and Communication from NYU ten years ago, was an intern for NYC Channel 5, and then… kept moving up. Made anchor after she broke some stories on local corruption and frauds on 9-11 funds, she’s been married since she graduated with her BA, her husband works in downtown Manhattan for an overseas investment firm as a lawyer, they have one child. When she was killed, her husband and her child had been visiting his parents, she stayed behind for her nightly recording but they had plans to meet back up in the morning. When she didn’t show, her husband called it in. His alibi checks out.”

“The commonality is the upper-middle class status. These people are pillars in their community, well loved, highly thought of, respected. They worked hard, pulled themselves to a good standing, and by all intents had a good life ahead of them. This was an attack on success, the victims’ gender and race isn’t what makes him choose who he goes after. He’s sophisticated, but he’s not patient.”

“He does plan though- but not for the murder. That came up. That was him getting mad. This guy, he’s got skills, very real skills in disarming security systems. He probably has a background in the industry or technology fields. He knew to wear gloves, and forensics is coming up a wash, so he probably pinned back his hair too. His ruse is probably simple, but effective. The murder isn’t as well thought-out. It’s a sudden blitz… but not because he was caught. No, he hides in these houses, he gets a thrill knowing they don’t find him, that he can pounce when he wants and do what he wants. In Mr. Adams’ case, time of death was after midnight. The stages of bruising indicates the attack lasted an hour. He spent an hour beating this man to death with the first thing he could grab. He took a wrench to him because he was hiding in his utility closet, he was probably waiting for Mr. Adams to go to sleep for the night, rob him, then leave. But something changed, he got angry, he blitzed Mr. Adams from the back, before he could react he was down. He did show signs of remorse on Mr. Adams. He covered him up then called 911, like he woke up from his anger and realized he did something wrong. He still took cash, gold jewelry, collectable sports cards. and some photos Mr. Adams had but left anything with diamonds.”

Rossi chimed in, “Crime scene two, reads the same with how he planned and how he entered. It might be happenstance that Ana Redkins was moving,  
but it’s early and hard to tell. Her house was sold, they were still packing up. Her husband did report a signed baseball and a signed hat were missing, as was money and gold jewelry, but anything with diamonds stayed, same with his Rolex. The unsub knows that those can sometimes be tracked. Gold can get melted down, sent out, not a problem, but if it’s traceable, it stays. He’s a seasoned thief. He knows what to take, what he can sell, what has fast turn-around time.”

“But Ana… her death was personal. He might not have known her directly, but she was a TV personality, so he didn’t have to. Something she said made him angry, so angry that he broke every bone in her torso. He spent three hours with her, then took maybe 10 minutes to sack the house. That was all the cool-down time he needed.” Rossi stopped, thoughtful.

Reid pulled at the hem of his shirt, “Garcia mentioned that Ana Redkins’ last report was about a string of robberies. She referred to the perpetrator as cowardly. From the files I’ve been going through, this unsub has not missed a day of robbery for the past five months. Every day he has robbed an upper-middle class home within a one-hundred mile radius of here, mostly concentrating towards NYC. He steals usually anywhere from under one thousand dollars-worth of goods to five thousand dollars-worth of goods depending on the jewelry and collectibles. He’s making a good living at this. I think he views himself as a hero. I think he’s romanticizing his crime, probably likening himself to Robin Hood somehow, that he’s stealing from the rich giving to the poor… but there’s no way to know where that money is going just yet. He hasn’t targeted homes when children were THERE though, suggesting that even though he doesn’t care if a child lives in the home that he doesn’t want them to witness it. I think he’s a father.”

“Any idea where he might try for next?” JJ asked, Reid bowed his head.

“…I haven’t figured it out yet…” He paused, he could see the shapes he was working on, but it didn’t indicate when or where or how, it all felt so happen-stance, like the neighborhoods he targeted were done so like darts on a board. Reid’s mouth suddenly gaped. “JJ! You can tell a person’s throwing style for darts looking at a board, right?”

“…Reid?” Her concerned tone came off as baffled by the sudden flash of energy.

“I think he’s picking an area with a large enough radius that he can literally throw darts at a board to pick out WHERE he’ll strike. There were clusters of houses, three closer than what one would want to strike when taking counter-measures for police, but he did it anyways. But then, the next week he was on opposite corners. He’s using chance to create a randomized pattern… so if I look at his old patterns and understand his groupings I can predict –if I can figure out his skill with darts and handedness- which areas would be statistically more probable to…”

“Right, right… I’ve got it.” JJ smiled letting out a breath, “Let me… look at the map. I’ll tell you if he’s right or left handed.”  
As the early morning passed by with no calls, the group went back to the hotel.

Hotch smiled at Reid as the younger man was still fidgeting, still going over probabilities and statistical anomalies in his head.

“Spencer, you need to sleep just like everyone else.”

Reid opened his mouth for a moment but closed it before he spoke, instead he turned to Hotch.

“…If Rossi is right, the reporter angered the unsub, he killed a man out of anger. That isn’t very good for his righteous thief mental image. So he had to kill her, he had to punish her, and he didn’t feel remorse. She hurt his image, he obliterated her face… and then he stopped stealing? He’s not done. He might be done HERE, but he’s not done. And now- his high from stealing has a new high. Murder, he’s going to snap again, and it’s going to be easier and easier for him to fly off the handle. He should’ve been out tonight and if he’s not it’s because-”

“He might be out tonight and we won’t know until morning when someone finds out they’re missing.”

Reid bowed his head. “I think he’ll relocate. He had this level of skill off the bat at 5 months ago. No improvement, no deterioration, he’s done this before. There isn’t a learning curve here. He moves between cities. He’s going to move. He’s going to feel there’s too much heat and he’ll up and leave. And you know the press is keeping this story running. It was one of their own. They want him caught.”

“I know. But we have to wait to know if he’s moved on already or not. Once he does we have to figure out how to track him.”

CM

The wait for word was excruciating. They spent the entire day in the police headquarters without word of any home invasion of any kind. They read reports and reviewed the other cases.

They met and spoke together about the chances of the unsub moving on. They had Garcia begin a search of the entire eastern seaboard for similar burglaries. Reid spent the days with his maps and Hotch spent it nervously reading through files that seemed similar. By the end of the day they agreed to wait one more evening. They met in Hotch’s room and the entire team watched news reports for almost 3 hours.

“If nothing happens tonight we’ll head back to D.C. We know he’ll strike again, just when and where is the question.” Hotch seemed unnerved by the wait.

Prentiss suggested dinner and all agreed. They headed out to a nearby Italian place that Rossi recommended and could get them into on a Friday night. The meal was good and they enjoyed each other’s company, but it felt unfinished because the case hung over them incomplete. They swung by the police headquarters for an update and when they found nothing, they headed back to the hotel. In the lobby Hotch asked JJ to have the plane ready at 8 in the morning.

CM

Saturday was pretty much a bust for house hunting. They got back to D.C. after ten and after picking Jack up it was well after noon that they saw their first house. The five houses they saw were either too old or too new. None of the three of them were inspired and they all went home feeling like they’d never find what they were looking for.

Sunday dawned bright and the Real Estate Broker picked them up at the Townhouse. Hotch grinned as Jack bounded into the car and clicked himself in, Hotch ducked into the back seat with his son. He’d switch with Reid for the front seat after the first house.

“So tell me again what are you fellas looking for in a house?”

“What do you think Jack?”

“A big room with a fireplace.”

Hotch raised a brow, he didn’t think that’d be the first thing Jack would come up with. “A good school district; with a straight run to the freeway and quick access to Quantico, and a view if we can get one.”

Reid licked his lips, “Somewhere to sit and read outside.”

“And you said 3 or 4 bedrooms, a modern kitchen in an older home. Is that about right?” The broker grinned. “With the economy the way it is, we just might find everything you want, fairly reasonably.” She was enthusiastic and very bright. She’d gotten the Townhouse under contract within a week of it being on the market. And she’d promised to be circumspect around Jack and Reid about money. Though at this point Reid realized that there had been an inheritance and insurance and the sale of the townhouse and Hotch’s old house, so house prices weren’t going to be his lover’s first worry.

They walked through the first house rather quickly, Reid didn’t really like how it was situated, it felt dark. Hotch walked a little slower and tried to see his and Jack’s things in the house. Jack watched the two men and looked for clues. But even he frowned and summed up everyone’s feelings. “Not what we were hoping for.”

The broker looked at him and nodded. “Well I have a few others, not far from here.”

The next house took their breath away, it was a good sized traditional home; Reid walked in and smiled. The wood floors gleamed, there were lovely bright windows. Jack ran to a bay window that filled the room with even more light, In the bay was a window seat and Jack climbed into it, he saw himself reading here. Hotch smiled at his son, who sat in the window seat, like a contented cat.

The kitchen had been redone in a gorgeous cherry wood finish, there were no appliances, but Hotch consoled Reid that there often weren’t and that he and Jack always wanted to get colorful ones. Spencer now imagined Reds and Blues in his new kitchen. The kitchen opened into a dining and family room that Spencer’s old school could have held a dance in. The dining area was tiled in a subtle slate color, the family room was carpeted in a muted green. And much to Jack’s pleasure, there was a real fire place with a mantle.

The doors that lead to the backyard were off the family room and Jack stood at them, staring out. They walked out onto the small deck. The back had been landscaped simply with grass and trees and from one of the trees was a swing. On the other side of the fence, accessed through a locked gate, was a jogging path and beyond that was park-land.

“It’s like living in a park.”

Reid smiled and Hotch nodded. They all walked into the house again, on the other side of the kitchen and in back of the living room was a small suite of rooms that could be a second master suite or guest quarters. Then they all walked up the stairs to the second floor. The bedrooms and two of the bathrooms were up here. Jack chose the smaller of the bedrooms that faced the side yard and looked further out to a stand of trees. Hotch and Reid checked the other bedroom which was certainly big enough for two desks and shelves of books. The Master suite had a sitting room and twin walk in closets. The windows opened onto a balcony that was placed to look right into the park, where there was a glimpse of the river.

“This is wonderful.” Spencer enthused. “Can we take it?”

Aaron loved his lover’s enthusiasm. “Let’s look at one more house, okay?”

Spencer shrugged. “This one is amazing, I could live here.” He spread his arms and then hugged himself.

“Oh one more thing,” The broker hooked a finger and through a door from the Master suite she led them into a small office space. Spencer immediately stamped it his.

Then from the ceiling she pulled down a set of stairs that lead to an attic space. Jack ran up the stairs and started yelling for them to come up. Hotch followed. The area was only vaguely finished, but the light sparkled and Jack was spinning in the effect of the round window at the peak of the house. There was a second set of attic stairs that led to his bedroom. They put those down and came into the room where they’d left Spencer and the broker.

“What do you think Mr. Hotchner?”

“It’s great, I’m a little worried about the stairs and Dr. Reid’s knee, but we can talk about it. Shall we look at the last house?”

Jack and Spencer looked at each other and sighed. Aaron sat in the front seat of the car, unconsciously taking it in for a second time.

Jack said from the back, “You know daddy, Spencer and I really like that house.”

“I know Jack and I like it too, but I want us to look at just one more. Okay buddy?”

There was another sigh from the two in the back seat and a rather sad, “okay.”

The third house was an older Victorian style house. It sat on a little over an acre of land and though it needed paint, was gorgeous to look at. Hotch added maintenance to the list in his head.

There were stairs up to the first level that let them into an entry hall. To the right was a huge living room and dining area. The floors had been recently resurfaced and gleamed. The myriad windows let in the light. The fireplace stood on the far wall and looked in need of repair. Jack stood and inspected the fireplace, he shook his head.

The stairway stood behind the dining area, but they’d see the first floor first. Under the stairway was a closet, and beyond that the entry to the kitchen. The kitchen was huge, room for table and chairs, done in French blue tile, the floor in rough wood planking. A small breakfast nook was tucked near the rear porch and it had a wall of windows looking to the back yard, where there was a huge garage structure. The deck off the porch was large and in fair repair.

A small hot-tub graced the deck, and a pool house which had a studio apartment was across the deck from the sun room-back porch area. In the house proper, and across from the living room, was a front bedroom with a walk in closet and another bedroom which was, at the moment, full of bookcases. The bottom floor bath was spacious and had been completely updated except for the clawfoot tub. They walked around the back yard; that would need landscaping and looked into an old vegetable garden that had been fenced off. Hotch took a quick look into the cellar, it could be refinished and there’d be even more square footage, or he could keep the wine that Rossi gifted him down here. He walked back into the house to meet the others.

They climbed the stairs to the second floor. This was an open area that was the master suite and bath. The sitting area looked over the trees in the rear yard, there was clearly enough room to have a library and office and a couple other areas. Tucked in behind the bath was a small area which was in the slant of the roof.

Jack got up into his dad’s arms and put his head on his shoulder. “Can we have the other one daddy? This one is prettier on the outside, but the other one feels better on the inside.”

He carried his son downstairs and set him on the floor in the dining area. The broker was sitting in the window seat. She looked up expectantly.

“We’re all agreed, get us a deal on the Franklin Street house.”

“If I were buying a house that would have been my choice. So let’s go to my office and get the paperwork started.”

TBC in Chapter Two.

Please R & R!


	2. Home Coming Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The BAU team follows the unsub to Baltimore as his violence escalates. Hotch and Reid get good news about the house.

CM C2  
The large man neatly folded his Dolce and Garbana jacket before he bent to code open his car door. Large hands caressed the steering wheel and pressed on the ignition. He spent a moment typing in his destination. A smile ghosted his mouth as a popular dance song started on his radio. He pulled out into the road and away from the motel he’d lived at for the last two weeks. He’d miss Charlotte, but it was time to move on. The Lincoln was probably the best car he’d ever owned. He’d bought it in downtown New York, some guy was just looking to sell it, right outside of Central Park. He was even surprised when the pink slip was valid at the Motor Vehicles.

The car purred up I-95 as he headed for Baltimore. He moved with the drum-line of the music, he enjoyed the feel of the heated leather seats. He stopped at a diner on the outskirts of town, and as expected picked up the local homes for sale pamphlet. He sat in a booth and started to mark the homes that seemed likely places to check out. He was pretty picky about the places he’d look at.

“Hey there darling, can I get you some coffee?”

“I’d love some coffee, can I get a waffle and sausage, I know it’s after noon but I’m just starved.”

“Big guy like you, why don’t you just get the special?”

He smiled at the waitress, Julia as named by her badge. “Sounds good to me, Julia. How’d the game go yesterday?”

“Oh you know I think they should just hire me to play quarterback, I’d be cheaper than Flacco and just as bad. You look like you could be on the team.”

“Too old for that now, though I did my college ball down at Auburn.” The big man laughed and nodded. “I’m new to town, can you recommend a good location to start house hunting?” He indicated the pamphlet. “Good schools, that sort of thing.”

“My kids went to Hamilton Elementary, great school. Good neighborhood. Let me show you on the map.” She indicated the area. “Can’t beat it. Let me get your order in.”

He saw there were a couple of upscale townhomes for sale and a sweet little house in a neighborhood he’d researched on Google. He circled those. He avoided Julia’s neighborhood. He looked at the entire pamphlet and checked all homes for sale for over 400K, though in this market he considered that he could probably still find good ones at an even lower price point- just no short-sales. He’d hit a couple places in Atlanta that were half that and come away with cash and easy to pawn collections. The coffee here was especially good, he’d missed his West coast coffee for a long time, but this diner seemed to make up for it.

That or perhaps he really was hard up for it. Breakfast arrived and he set aside his research. The meal was as good as promised.

The laptop showed him a couple of the houses he’d found in the pamphlet, the listings in the realty pages made it clear where the houses were. He’d drive by a few before he’d settle in to his new residence. This motel was a little nicer than the rat-bag place in Charlotte. Charlotte had been good to him, though; he was able to pay cash for the week ahead, which only brought a smile to the owner’s face instead of the questioning look he’d get because he didn’t use a card to get the room. The last time he’d used the card was in Florida, and that still made him nervous, that some sharp cop somewhere would associate him with the thefts. He never took credit cards, he was quite proud of that. Then again, he only took what he could carry and what he knew his fence could sell. He wouldn’t take any unnecessary chances, he couldn’t afford to.

He unpacked his suitcase into the chest of drawers and set his backpack on the bed. He turned on the television and caught the local news. Then he napped until it was late enough to get started. He showered and brushed his teeth. He toweled dry his crew-cut head. From the backpack he removed his black t-shirt and jeans. His black Nikes followed. He pulled his black watch cap from the drawers and checked the weather channel, on its advice he pulled a dark blue sweatshirt over his head.

His small pack of tools hung on his belt, the hotel key he slipped into his car as he passed it. He carried no ID. He considered himself invisible.

He walked five blocks from the hotel before he started to consider which truck to steal. He didn’t like carjacking so he’d wait for someone to park. He liked pickups with campers or SUVs. He needed space for whatever he found. For a night job, he’d only have the vehicle for a couple hours but during the day he’d normally hit a train or bus station for one. Tonight he just needed transportation. A couple quick jobs and he’d be good for his house hunting.

He found a beauty of an SUV parked outside a convenience store. This’d be his first Escalade, he moved fast, he was into the car and on the road in under a minute. He was that good.

The first Townhouse was nearly bare, but he scored some very nice silver, nicely boxed and labeled and a jackpot of signed baseballs that he’d set aside for a little while. A few suits still hung in the closet. The owner was a big guy like he was so the nice Boss jacket was added to his pile. He was always too tall for the trousers, but a nice 48 tall jacket from a good designer was more than welcome, there were a few twenties in the interior pocket, nice. No more cash though, and that wasn’t good. The second Townhouse was packed, everything marked and cataloged, and he found a nice little safe in a closet, his small meter got him into it and happily emptying it quickly of cash, coins and surprisingly loose jewels.

A noise from the other side of the house caught him off guard, surely no one would be staying here. There was no furniture left. He stilled himself, waited.

Someone noisily walked into the kitchen from the garage. He heard the tap water run, someone had gotten a drink from a faucet, there was no unpacked glassware. He hid behind boxes and watched as the cop walked through the house, the officer flashed his light and talked from time to time to someone on the radio.

“Looks all locked up. Yeah, probably a cat tripped the alarm. Tell Phillips we checked the house will ya? Yeah, probably some punk kids took the caddie for a joy ride. No self-respecting burglar would be arrogant or stupid enough to try to rip off a cop. Seriously, who’d want his stuff? Nah, wait hmmm, looks like the safe’s open. Ask him if he left it? Everything…”

“Pars? Parson, what’s your 20? Parson?”

The first hit had been with a box that he just lifted and threw.

“What?” The officer was completely taken off guard. “You bastard.” He fumbled for his gun.

The bigger man grew angrier. He got up and hit the cop from behind. There was no struggle as the cop went down hard and the big man was able to get the cop’s own flashlight from him and hit him with it. His anger built as the officer struggled. But the big man knew the advantage was his because of his height, weight and training.

He heard the radio go on about the possible officer-down and signal for backup to the address.

He’d have to leave the car and the baseball collectables he sighed. He straightened and headed out the rear door, through the back yard and over the fence onto a quiet street. The Miata he took actually had its keys in the ignition. He shook his head.

CM

Hotch took a look around the bullpen. Not one of his agents were able to look back up to meet his glances.

Prentiss was elbow-deep in three distinctive piles which seemed to be: past crimes same MO, crimes ruled out, and crimes to still go through- that pile was actually a bit taller.

Reid was back and forth from Prentiss’s desk, he took files off the racks, would read through them in what Prentiss must think enviously was within seconds then return to the geographic profile he was setting up. He had different maps of each focal city, and so far there were over a dozen for BNE only. Two were marked homicide, and that was a striking difference from when he had gone home last night.

Morgan was on the phone, apparently he was schmoozing with the different field offices to get what they had as Garcia was too busy to do her usual tactics for information spelunking. Instead, she was on errand for Reid- she was pulling as many news articles as she could for local crimes in each area while the unsub was suspected of being there. The highlighted list of related articles went to the corner of his desk he had reserved for that- which Rossi was loosely attentive to.

Dave probably thought Reid was on to something, because transcripts from the local news was never as good of a read-through as a listen-through. The hypothesis seemed to be if popular opinion was ‘times are rough, people get desperate’ the unsub went unprovoked. If someone had the audacity to call it what it was…? The unsub became angry to the point of explosive rage. Yet still, it was unclear if he waited for the opportune time or if it was happenstance that the unsub’s MO went unchanged. The unsub had yet to invade a home with a child actively present.

The unsub was able to hide or evade the home-owners, and the unsub always struck homes that were sold- never short-sales though, nor bank-owned. JJ hung up as Morgan struggled to do the same.

“Alright everyone- meet up in the conference room in five.” Hotch made sure his voice carried, when even Reid’s head picked up from the map, he assumed his voice carried.

Inside the round room, Garcia was quick to pull up the presentation from Baltimore PD.

“Good morning my league of justice- today Baltimore has sent us a troubling signal. As of last night they sent word of a suspicious death that might be related to our current case. It’s not so much of a might as a ‘damn right’ this is our creep… but I digress.”

Hotch cut his own ‘wrap it up’ hand gesture, it worked better than a hook at a comedy club on amateur night. “Morgan, JJ, and I will drive up to Baltimore to meet with the detectives and see the crime scene first hand. By the pattern we’ve seen, the unsub will be fast to leave town so we’ll be there two days at most. I want the rest of you to keep working your angles. Reid- geographic profile, let’s see if we can get ahead of him. Garcia, keep comparing local footage, I’ll need the information for the press conference also see if you can get any witness testimonies and descriptions. Prentiss- once Garcia gets that to you, see if we can get a composite sketch, and keep going through the files. Rossi, run linguistics off the reports Garcia has already listed, let’s see what sets him off.”

Morgan leaned in, “Right now, what we do know is that the unsub is most likely a man in his mid-thirties to early forties. Still very fit, large build; but even though he has a clear size advantage, he still uses a weapon. This tells us he isn’t confident in his new-found abilities but he is angry and he isn’t in control of it. He grabs weapons of convenience to give him even more of an advantage. This is a dominance play, he wants to control the outcome. Once anger subsides he feels remorse. He probably views his theft as crimes of necessity, he targets people who are ‘better off’ than him. He might see himself as a Robin Hood, but that delusion is not what he is. He is a violent offender who needs to be stopped.”

“JJ, Morgan… we’ll leave in twenty minutes.” Hotch mentioned as he stood, he headed back to his office to give Jack and Jessica each a quick call. He knew Reid would be able to watch Jack that night, but he’d still need her to pick Jack up from school.

CM

For a little while the car was quiet, each agent thinking about the case, but not coming up with anything new or interesting.

“We’ll have to wait till we get there for new information.” JJ murmured as if answering everyone elses thoughts. “I still have a hard time figuring out why people suddenly start killing.”

“The first one was probably an accident, it really didn’t look planned at all.”

“They’re all pretty vicious.” Hotch added. “It still gets to me as well.”

“You just hide it better.” Morgan smiled.

Hotch raised his brows and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah. I’m trying not to do that quite as much.”

“Not doing the best job at that boss.” JJ quipped and realized she’d said something that was okay for a liaison but maybe not for an agent.

“It’s that poker face you learned when you worked as a district attorney.” Morgan said.

Hotch laughed. “Or trying not to show you’re terrified when you first take the field as a running back.”

With a twinkle in his eyes Morgan retorted, “or as a quarterback in your first college game.”

“Or as left wing when everyone is a foot taller and 30 pounds heavier.”

“You know it’s a real shame that we live close to two professional football teams and never seem to have time to even listen to the games.”

“I never noticed when Baltimore became Ravens.” Hotch commented.

“Showing your age there boss. That was in the eighties.” Morgan taunted.

“Yeah well I grew up when Joe Montana was the best thing in football, no time for anything else.”

JJ stared out the window of the backseat of the Suburban. “Whenever we watched the Redskins when we were kids, my dad would always say, he’s no Joe Montana. And mom would always say or even Elway.”

“Oh I remember that Super Bowl, Elway kept thinking people were after him.” Morgan laughed.

“Well the bad news was people were after him, those footsteps he kept hearing were real.” Hotch retorted.

“When I worked up In Seattle people talked about the Seahawks as if they were family.” Hotch continued. “So Morgan, quarterback?”

“Yeah, I was scouted early. But when I messed up my knee I knew I’d stick with the law.”

“I wasn’t that good.” Hotch said quietly.

“I heard you walked onto the field as a red shirt and got the job.”

“I was fast, well with my size being fast was my only option. JJ you got a full ride?”

“Yeah, it was all I thought about. Then I realized how undervalued women’s sports is. But I love it. I have a team I’m on, the Arlington Hurricanes, when I can get to the games.”

“Jack would love if you came out to a game of his.”

“I’d like that, and it’d be great if you guys came to one of my games. How’s the coaching?”

“Don’t ask.” Hotch laughed, “but Dave’s enjoying it. Jack’s thinking maybe he should grow up to play soccer professionally, that or be a doctor.”

“That sounds about right, he’s six?” Morgan asked. “When I was six, I was going to be a singer or a teacher.”

JJ laughed quietly, “My sister wanted to be a travel agent, and I wanted to be just like her.”

“You almost got your wish back as liaison.”

“True, but then I saw you guys having all the fun. Breaking in doors, running on beaches….”

“Getting shot at, stabbed,” Morgan laughed then stopped, he looked at Hotch whose expression had gone dark. “Getting the bad guys.”

JJ picked up on the cue, “this guy we’re after.”

“We’ve somehow got to get ahead of him, figure out where he’s going.” Hotch said flatly.

JJ frowned, “What if our unsub is hearing footsteps? You know like Elway.”

“JJ?” Hotch looked into the rear view mirror. “Footsteps?”

“What if he’s been caught before, maybe not in a robbery, or yeah maybe, but maybe in other crimes or something.”

“Call Garcia. Let’s check into that. He breaks and enters for a living. Maybe he wasn’t so good at hiding in the past.

They drove quietly for a while. Morgan listened to his MP3 player and JJ dozed, while Hotch tried to think about the countryside and whether the realtor was getting closer to a deal on the house.

It didn’t take very long to get into Maryland and after a while they were on the outskirts of Baltimore. They stopped for coffee and to stretch before they met the local Sheriff.

Getting in the car they reviewed the facts again, JJ reading and commenting from the file. Finally the gps announced the last turn and the crime scene tape let them know they’d arrived at their destination.

 

CM

JJ looked at the spatter-pattern on the wall. Despite what had occurred, there was a surprising lack in blood. Most of the blows had been to the body after the first few strikes had been focused on the head.

“By the looks of it, the unsub hit the victim in the head and face first, then moved to the body. This is less personal than the reporter, but no less brutal.”

“According to the LEOs, boy-blue here was checking up on his partner’s house. He’s flying back from Hawaii, honeymoon’s over now.” He let out a breathy whistle, “So, the vic comes in after an electronic alarm was activated for his partner’s smart phone. That tells us something- he’s alarm savvy, but he’s not up on the smart phones and their applications. Something like that suggests he’s been out of the game a bit. What, seven years?”

Hotch’s eyes raked over the townhouse, he looked out the window at an Escalade also marked with evidence tape and an impound boot. “CSUs are going to take a look at that stolen vehicle. Let’s go take a look before we head back to the station.”

CM

As the trio made way to the SUV, Hotch stopped to see what was hanging up in the back seat. He gave a preliminary look at the mirrors. “Our unsub is male,” he approached the back seat and opened the door and subsequent garment bag. “He’s also over six-feet tall and built like a full-back.”

“More like a line-backer, he’s gotta be close to 250 pounds. This car was reported stolen when, last night? The seat’s already sitting low.” Morgan whistled.

JJ approached the driver’s side of the vehicle as she slid in carefully, “Mirrors are indicating the normal driver of this car is my size.”

Morgan’s blue-nitrile gloved hand coasted over several items in the back seat. None of which included a pick-set. “This is from a third crime-scene. This isn’t the car-owner’s, it’s not from the townhouse. He hit more than one place and all this except that jacket…? Quick, easy to pawn goods, boy needed some capital. I’d bet he does cash-and-carry.”

“The demographics of these neighborhoods are all over the map. The only consistent point is the income level. He had to have held a skilled job at one point, think this was his price-range?” JJ ventured, she glanced over at Hotch for a moment.

“It’s possible. He won’t target a home with a child in it, that’s either because he doesn’t want to hurt a child or be spotted by one.”

Morgan nodded, “That kind of anger comes from somewhere, think he was beaten as a kid?”

“It’s possible. I think he has a child though, but the things he stole, he didn’t take a child’s toy once. He doesn’t see his kid. He took things he could use for himself though. JJ, call the Baltimore PD, I want to have a press conference before he moves out. And he will, the heat will be on. I need you to play the sympathetic ear, devil’s advocate. Approach it like it’s not his fault, make it look like he’s cunning. I want him to hear that the press does not look down on him, this should minimize any violent outbreaks. I’ll play the hard line, I’ll lay into him as being afraid and no-good. He won’t have a target he can easily get to.”

Morgan clicked his tongue, “You’re going to paint a target on your back? Pretty Boy’s not going to be happy when he hears that.”

“I trust him to do his job, he trusts me to do mine.” Hotch said with a slight air of authority.

“Yeah, sure, that’s exactly how it’ll play out.” Morgan chided.

CM

It would take about an hour to set up the press conference, while Morgan and JJ briefed the police and prepped the press, respectively, Hotch went outside to view the podium. The rig was set up to look imposing and isolating.  
He heard the low keys of his ring-tone and quickly drew out the cell. “Hotchner here.”

“Aaron, I have great news.”

A brief smile spilt across his face at hearing his lover’s voice. “Really? What is it?”

“You’re not even going to try to guess?”

He gave the near-empty area a look-over. The press vans were parked, with a few stray cars and work-vans on the streets. No LEOs were underfoot at the moment though, he could spare a minute for the game, “Hmm, you got a Nobel Peace Nomination…”

“That’s announced in November.”

“Strauss just announced her plans to retire?”

“That won’t be announced until hell freezes over or she gets Hoover’s old chair, nice to know where you priorities are…”

“Our offer was accepted. That’s great! Did she give the closing date or does she need to see us both to talk last-minute contracts?”

“You already had everything ready, it was a matter of signing the line… I put the first signature on it, just to get the ball rolling but when you get back, she needs to see you to finish up the paperwork.”

“I’ll be home tonight, we can tell Jack together at dinner. Let’s go out somewhere, celebrate. Find a Pier One or drive down to IKEA, we’re going to have to get some more furniture. Even I’m not that Spartan.”

“It’s a date. What do you have left to do up there?”

“I have to deliver the press conference, Morgan’s already briefed the LEOs, JJ is hand-picking people from the press. We should be on the road by the close of the hour.”

“Alright, be safe. I love you Aaron.”

“And I love you too, Vegas. Have you figured out his pattern yet?”

“Mm, I think so. I’m just waiting on confirmation from Garcia. If I’m right, he’s been at it for almost 9 years. He never doubles back though.”

“Nine years?” Hotch let out a whistle, he could only imagine the piles of boxes they’d have gone through. “How is he traveling?”

“It changes with each pass. This time it looks like it’s I-95, but he came up from Florida and I’m thinking he bypassed the Virginia leg of it, probably to avoid the construction work.”

Hotch laughed, “Finally, a sane unsub. Alright, let me get going, I’ll call you from the road.”

“Ok, should we go to Papa-Razzi? Jack liked them last time.”

“The soccer team has a pizza-party planned this week after practice, how about a steak house?”

“Sure. See you tonight. Good luck with the press conference.”

As the hour passed by more and more people gathered near the line of press vehicles. The AP gathered in front of the podium. Hotch glanced to his side to spot JJ, Morgan was still discussing with the LEOs how to contact the BAU if they had any questions and promised to forward the information as they got it.

Hotch took an authoritative step in front of the podium as JJ closed in as his right wing.

“Good Afternoon and thank you for coming, as you know, yesterday the Baltimore PD suffered a loss of one of their finest during an interrupted home invasion. I am Agent Hotchner from the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. I was contacted to deliver a profile of the responsible party. I believe that this murder is affiliated with two other deaths, and several house-burglaries from New York, Miami, and Charlotte. The unsub is a male, in his mid-thirties to early forties. He has a large-build, and most importantly, he is a coward. He has made a habit of breaking into homes, hiding in the dark and attacking innocent people for the sake of monetary gain. He is a petty thief with anger issues and resents the success of hard-working, talented people because he envies them. The male unknown subject is highly dangerous when confronted. He will travel, he will leave. Especially knowing the FBI is here to hunt him down like the dog he is. His actions are inexcusable, and the BAU will not stop until we’ve apprehended him. Thank you, Agent Jareau will field any questions.”

Hotch raised his hand and stepped back. He gave a once-over of the crowd, content to see the stunned faces of the press. JJ stepped forward to give him an opportunity to speak with Morgan and the Baltimore PD before they headed out.

JJ smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, she lipped a silent, ‘Wow’ before she repositioned the mike. “Are there any questions?”

“Agent Jareau, what are your thoughts on this suspect?”

“I believe the unsub is a desperate man doing what he feels he needs to in order to survive. However, how he is choosing to survive is not an acceptable alternative. While many feel the same constraints, he has taken to robbing people he feels have more than enough to share, but it isn’t up to him to make that decision. Yes, in the back-”

“Does the FBI have any leads as to who this man is?”

“We’re still working on a list of suspects. When we have him in custody, we’ll be certain to let you know. Yes?”

“Agent Jareau- Agent Jareau! If he is stealing from the wealthy, does he liken himself to Robin Hood?”

“We have no evidence that he is trying to give back to anyone but himself. We do have a composite sketch from several witnesses of earlier home invasions, and we’d like to distribute that to you all now. I’m sorry, that’s all the time we have right now. We have set up a tip-hotline, please, if you believe you’ve seen anything suspicious, or someone matching this description who is new to the area or just passing through, by all means, please call in. Thank you.”

 

TBC.

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	3. Home Coming  Chap 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reid meets the unsub with horrific results.

CMC3  
Spencer managed to nestle the cordless phone between his shoulder and his ear while he fumbled with a pile of books and the tape-gun. A box sat in between his legs as he rested on the floor.

“Yeah, I’m still packing, practice over then?”

“It just let out, I’m going to drop Jack off and swing by with a few sandwiches from the place next door, I should be back within the hour, Linda is going to give Jack a ride home after they finish up their pizza party.”

“Linda’s Sean’s mom, right? Jack mentioned it a while back.”

“Yes, she’s a red-head, 5’2”, if you’ve seen her at practices, she’s the one who brings apples and koolaid.”

“Right, she drives an SUV…”

“That… describes every mom on the soccer team except Sheila, she drives a sedan.”

“Her husband drives the SUV though.” Spencer smirked, “Okay, I’ll let you and Jack get to dinner. I’ll see you later tonight.”

Spencer added three more books before he closed the lid and taped the box. He grabbed a sharpie to mark the box ‘1697 books’ for his reference and slid the heavy box toward the wall.

After thirty-five minutes and seven impressive stacks of boxes, he had cleared the bookshelf in the room along with Aaron’s personal desk. All that remained in his own desk was his papyrus paper, his specialty ink pens, his envelopes, stamps, and seal-kit. The rest was in a box labeled S’s P-Desk.

He stood from the study, he felt a little closed in with the boxes. Now would probably be a spectacular time for coffee.

As he made his way to the kitchen through a trail of boxes, Reid pulled down the dark-roast blend Aaron preferred. He was sure his lover would appreciate a cup with dinner as much as he appreciated it with the passing of each waking half-hour. Immediately after he had set the ground beans into the filter and hit the power switch, the lights died.

His body went taut. Mentally he tallied in the dark room the energy consumption, he wondered if someone forgot to unplug the toaster from the other side of the cabinets. The one thing he wouldn’t miss about this place would be the fuse-box. Fuse 3 always shorted out without fail if the toaster and the coffee pot were plugged in at the same time.

Spencer reached for the drawer underneath the coffee pot and muttered under his breath when he didn’t find the flashlight in its assigned location. Hand reached forward, he took steps through the kitchen and toward the utility closet by the family room.

First he found no less than three of his boxes of old-world scholar books as he banged his shins and stubbed his toe relentlessly.

He finally came to the ajar door and pushed his hand against it, it gave way to half-open as he slipped inside, convinced it would provide enough light once the power kicked back on. As he reached the box he felt something hot land on the back of his neck. His eyes went wide as his head quickly approached the fuse-box and land with a powerful thump. Hot fingers squeezed into his neck as his head was drawn back, he turned to see the face that belonged to the hand that directed him so easily only to find the corner of the box just behind his ear.

In a pure knockout, Reid’s legs folded under him. His eyes didn’t even have the decency to close before he hit the floor in a graceless heap of tangled limbs.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered yells, orders to get up, but that was replaced by swift and cruel upward kicks to his stomach. He let out an, “Oof…” as he curled into his side.

The foot stopped mid-air at Reid’s ‘defense’ and instead of a hard stomp, came down on his neck. Reid blinked the stars back from his eyes. The too-dark closet made it hard to see, the door completely obscured by a large menace of figure. He felt pressure on his throat as weight was added to it.

“Some fucking Agent Hot-shot-ner! You’re going to track me down like a dog? Then roll-OVER!” With a thrust of his foot he pushed Spencer’s limp body onto his back. The man hesitated. Spencer blinked to focus, his attacker seemed confused by his presence.

The foot retracted, Spencer curled instinctively to brace for a kick or stomp he was sure would come next.

“What’s your name!?"

Spencer blinked in response, his left eye felt heavier than his right, sound wasn’t playing like normal, were his ears packed with cotton? His mouth was dry.

The light shifted behind the tall man as he bent lower, Spencer reflexively tried to pull himself back when a heavy hand pushed his chest down. He let out an audible noise to prepare for a harder strike that didn’t come.

“What’s your name!”

Hands fumbled to push away at the dark figure as he loomed too-close, Spencer felt a casual hand brush his hip. His eyes went wide, he was going for his own gun- he intuitively knew it as he struggled with the burly man to gain some ground- any ground to   
draw it before he could. He swiped at the hand, his tongue somehow thickened and slurred as he shouted, “Gid offa me!”

A strong hand wrapped around both his wrists and crushed them to the side as the other hand brushed over the left hip, curved down to the front thigh then switched to the right. As it seemed to find the bulge it wanted, it fished into the pocket to retract a cell-phone.

“I said what’s your name!” Reid flinched as he waited for the gun to click. Instead, he heard three keys pitch. The hand that had crushed down both of his wrists lifted. “911 will be here soon.”

Desperately Reid tried to refocus his eyes on the face of the man as he lingered over him. He looked familiar, but he couldn’t place a name to it. His head was swimming, he could feel a migraine. Every little sound set his head on fire with electric needles… the way the key scraped in the front door, the beep-beep-beep-beep of the alarm code…

He turned his face to see the taller man as his whole posture stiffened. He was standing again, he looked like a terrified cat.

Before he was large and menacing, but now he looked bigger, arms puffed out to his side, defensive like he was just caught. He hit send and threw the phone toward the entry-way then took off for the sliding glass door and the patio.

Aaron entered the townhouse, he wasn’t sure why it was so dark as he entered the security code. Spencer was supposed to be packing- had been packing- he didn’t smell coffee. He supposed that was it, his lover must have blown out the fuse. Then he heard something crash into the wall and a dial tone.

His eyes went wide. That was an out-of-place noise. His eyes scanned the entryway for the small table and found it quite easily, the drawer was pulled out and Maglite drawn and on before he registered the 911 operator in the background. He narrowed his eyes.

He swept the arc of light through the suspected trajectory of the phone and spotted a dark-clad figure move toward the back door.

Eyes went wide, adrenalin flared. Someone was in his house that had no reason to be. Old wounds and worries raised flags in the foreground of his mind as he gave chase, he reached the utility closet and heard a low moan of pain. He hesitated before he pushed forward only to reach the stone patio to see a large figure dive into a small-model sedan. In seconds the headlights came on and the car peeled out of the parking spot and down the road.

“SHIT!” He spun on his heels and raced back to the utility closet and pulled the door fully open.

“Uhhhh…”

“Spencer…! Spencer! Stay still, don’t move…” He reached over his lover and hit the light switch, it did nothing, he pointed the Maglite at his lover’s down form.

Spencer reached his hand forward to catch Aaron’s pant seam. “Uhhn…” Aaron couldn’t grasp the language behind the vowels, he was too preoccupied with the bloody fountain that poured from Spencer’s forehead.

“I’m calling 911.” He informed his lover, he let the Maglite roll to the floor next to the hurt man as he pulled out his phone with one hand and with the other clutched Spencer’s wrist. He hit send and waited for the response.

“911. Please state your emergency.”

“I need an ambulance at…”

Spencer let out another inarticulate groan.

“Spencer, hold on, an ambulance is coming, I promise… at- we’re at 1417E 30th Street. He’s bleeding from the head. Spencer talk to me, come on, tell me what happened…”

“Nnnah… uhhh… nuhhh…” Aaron grimaced as he brushed his hand down Spencer’s cheek.

“He’s not speaking coherently. Hold on…” He lifted the flashlight and scanned the room, his eyes widened, “…I just got home, someone was in my house, he left when I realized someone was here and I found Spencer in the utility closet, it looks like he hit his head on the electrical box, he’s bleeding from the forehead, it’s pretty bad.”

Aaron looked around for anything suitable to use, he spotted a dishtowel on one of the storage shelves and grabbed it. He pushed down gently on his lover’s forehead which elicited a wail of pain.

“Nnnnahhhh-ah-nn!”

“Shh, shh, I know it hurts… I’m applying pressure to it, Spencer stay still for me, come on, don’t wiggle around. You took a knock to the head… come on.” He watched in silent horror as Spencer kept gripping at the air, his hand finally made contact with Aaron’s wrist and latched on.

“Sir, an ambulance is en-route and should be there shortly.”

“Thank you, I need to hang up, I have to call this in.”

Before the operator could protest, he disconnected and dialed Garcia.

“You have reached the lair of the goddess of all things knowing, I am totally here right now, so you can speak mortal.”

“Garcia, call the team and meet up at Georgetown Hospital, and have a unit of our CSUs get to my place. Reid’s been hurt.”

“Oh my god, not again!” She gasped.

“Garcia!”

“Right, right I’m on it! Is… is it bad?”

“I don’t know- the ambulance isn’t here yet. I have to call Jess, see if she can pick up Jack.” Aaron lifted the towel to peek at the gash beneath the blood, he could see for a few moments the china-white bone below. “Oh no, no- open your eyes Spencer, now is NOT the time for a nap.”

Hotch disconnected the phone, “Spencer Reid wake up!” He could see eyes move back and forth but was interrupted from his quest by the knock at his door. He rushed to the front door to lead in the paramedics.

“He’s this way!”

 

CM

“Linda, thank you so much for dropping Jack off here, I know it’s out of your way…”

“Don’t worry about it Aaron. I’m just sorry this all happened, what did they say happened to Spencer?”

Aaron gave a polite smile and gestured at Jack, thankful that it somehow assuaged her curiosity. Linda merely smiled back and offered a, “Later…” and waved to Jack before she left.

“Hey buddy, want to go say hi to Spencer?”

Jack nodded, obviously upset by the hospital environment as his dad picked him up. “Ok, but we need to use quiet voices because Spencer’s very sleepy, ok?”

“Ok daddy.”

Morgan waited for Aaron to take Jack into Spencer’s room before he gave Rossi a look. “That son of a bitch did this.”

“That son of a bitch, that narrows down the list quite a bit.” Rossi eye-rolled in retort.

“You know damn well who I’m talking about! Hotch baited him in Baltimore and he came right on down to DC to take the hook! When I get my hands on him…”

“Morgan, let it go. Right now we need to figure out how to catch this guy.”

“You heard what the doctors said- he was unresponsive for two hours. Reid. You can’t get that boy to shut up for two hours in his sleep if you gag him with a tie, I know, I’ve had to share a room with him. And really, the tie… it doesn’t work…”

“If you want to keep your pension I wouldn’t mention that to Hotch. If you want to pick up a porn-contract, feel free to drop hints to Garcia, though.”

“Hey now I didn’t mean it like… whatever Rossi.” He let out a breath, “You know Hotch can’t go back to his place when it’s an active crime scene, and anywhere he goes that unsub’s going to make a go for it. Then there’s Reid and Jack, Reid’s not going to be able to be alone for days.”

“So I’ll let them stay at my place. I have a dog, that’s the same thing as a babysitter for kids Jack’s age, and Reid? We can take shifts.” He shook his head, “I’ll take the first one if he gets out tonight.”

“Yeah? Hotch’ll be down with that.” Morgan nodded toward the door, “Speaking of, we better see what our fearless leader’s thinking.”

 

CM

Jack perched on the bed, he held Spencer’s hand carefully as the tall, slender man in the bed smiled lackadaisically at the boy. “Heyyyy Jack…” Spencer slurred, “Did you win the game?”

Jack looked at his dad as if to ask for guidance. “We only practiced today, Spencer.”

Spencer blinked and mulled over the statement, “Right, its Wednesday isn’t it? That is practice night…” He gave Aaron a tired, appreciative look.

“Buddy, can you go with Miss Penelope and show her how good you are at brushing your own teeth? I need to talk with Spencer for a few minutes.”

“Ok daddy. Good night Spencer!” The boy smiled and almost mimicked Reid’s smile and awkward wave perfectly before he threw himself to hug his dad’s legs.

“I’ll come get you in a few minutes.” He led Jack to the door and aimed him at Garcia who was already waiting there, arms open for the flying tackle she expected from the energetic boy.

He turned back to Spencer and approached the chair next to the bed before he collapsed into it. He bowed his head, “Spencer, I’m sorry… I’m so, so, sorry…”

The younger of the two turned to face him, “Aaron, I don’t want your apologies. I want a comfortable bed to sleep in and pajamas that don’t have a hole in the back. Can we go home yet?”

“Spencer, honey, the townhouse is a crime scene… remember?”

“Of course I remember… it’s… just muddled up right now. Hotel? Derek’s? Jess’s?”

“Rossi’s offered up his place. He has the space and enough guest-rooms where you can get some rest and Jack can feel secure.”

He nodded, “I’m sorry, I got blood all over the floor… I didn’t even get a good look at him… I… I think it’s our unsub though… the profile fits, but… I don’t get why he stopped. If the BAU’s a threat… why stop?” He shook his head which he immediately regretted, “Maybe I’m wrong, he didn’t use anything to hit me with, but then… he said something, or at least I think he did… something about a dog and a chase… and Hot-shot…ner? I… I can’t be thinking straight. That light looks purple, you think I could find out where they got their light bulbs from? In neon lights they use krypton to produce a purple color-spectrum…”

“Really?” Aaron smiled, he traced his thumb down Spencer’s hand, careful to avoid the IV line.

“When are we leaving?” He turned to face Aaron, he watched, waited.

“The doctors aren’t exactly thrilled you don’t plan to stay overnight. They want to keep you here at least 3 more hours.”

“Right… Aaron, my throat’s really sore.”

“I know…” He put a gentle hand on his lover’s cheek to look him in the eyes, his own raked down to look at the bruise as it formed beneath Spencer’s jaw down half the front of his neck.

 

CM

The pages of doctors instructions and discharge-papers were seemingly endless as Hotch waited for Reid to sign them all. Garcia and JJ had gone up ahead to Rossi’s with Jack, each promised to get the rooms set up and Jack squared away at the semi-reasonable hour of ten. Aaron thanked them both profusely before he handed Spencer his go-bag that Morgan had brought over.

“There’s over a week’s worth of sweater-vests in there, kid, so pace yourself.”

“Wait… I don’t have enough pants?” Had been Reid’s eloquent response which only made Rossi smirk. Hotch realized he was sending his poor, defenseless lover into a pack of wolves apparently.

“You do, Spencer, you have enough to wear for more than a week. Pajamas too, all the essentials.”

Spencer just nodded slowly before he pulled a baggy sweater over-head. He looked at the scarf as it sat atop the pile and pushed it lower into the go-bag. “Can we go now?”

Aaron nodded back, “Sure.”

Neither had expected quite the chill they got, for late September it was doing a bang-up job resembling early November. Aaron spotted Spencer shiver into his sweater as he shuffled toward the car. He took off his jacket and draped it over the younger man’s shoulders then put his arm around him to transfer more heat.

“Thanks…” Spencer shivered out. “I just… didn’t want anything touching my neck… y’know?”

Aaron planted a kiss just above Spencer’s ear. “It’s understandable.”

“No, it’s really cold out…”

 

CM

Jack walked stiffly into the mansion. He looked around tentatively until he saw David Rossi.

“Coach Dave!” he ran to the man who knelt to catch him.

“Hey there Jack, are you ready to hang out here while your dad gets the new home ready?”

“And to help take care of Spencer, right?”

“Well of course, we’ll all do that. Hey Jack I’d like you to meet Rose, my puppy.”

Jack’s eyes went round, “You have a dog?”

“Well a puppy really, but yes. Let me get her.”

Jack turned to Garcia, “Did you know?”

“No, he hasn’t said anything at work. Must be a brand new puppy.”

Smiling tightly Jack said, “Wonder how daddy will take it?”

“Your dad loves dogs, Jack. There’s a small picture of him with a dog in his office.”

“The townhouse doesn’t allow pets. And mommy didn’t like dogs much.”

At that moment Dave arrived with a bundle of red energy in his arms.

Jack drew back, suddenly very shy.

Dave put the puppy on the floor but held its collar. “Jack this is Rose.”

Jack grabbed on to Garcia’s skirt and half hid behind her.

Rose in her puppy non directional excitement suddenly saw Jack. Unexpectedly calm, she turned her head to the side as if to consider what to do next.

Garcia giggled. “I think she wants to be friends Jack.”

“How can you tell? She seems pretty wild to me.”

“Because she never slows down,” Rossi answered. “She goes full force until she falls over asleep.”

In her puppy instincts Rose seemed to feel the need to herd Jack somehow. She walked over to him and stared.

Jack put out his hand.

Now Rose knew how her siblings sometimes licked humans, but she’d not deign to do that. But she did inch closer. Jack patted her chest, which was the perfect response by Rose's standard.

Rose walked over to Jack and leaned against him.

Jack looked at Garcia then at Rossi.

“Looks like Rose likes you Jack.”

Rossi smiled, yes a dog was as good as having a baby sitter.

Jack sat on the floor with Rose while she crawled over him and invited him to play. Jack got up and ran down the first hall he saw and Rose pelted after him.

This gave Rossi a moment to realize that maybe Rose wasn’t going to baby sit.

Garcia followed Rossi into the kitchen and JJ soon arrived with Jack’s clothes and toys. Rossi grinned at her, “Do you think that’ll be enough?”

JJ looked down at the large rolling duffle of clothes and the larger still bag of school and play supplies. “I sincerely hope so, Jess says it’ll keep him through the weekend.”

Jack and Rose took that moment to crash through the living room, and ended up in a hug with JJ as the puppy mouthed at her shoes. “Well, hello Jack.”

“This is Rose, she’s a puppy, she’s a vish... veeshla, Coach David?”

“A vizsla, my new puppy.”

JJ rolled her eyes. “Jack, a puppy, Reid and Hotch in the same house. Are you sure about this David?”

Dave shrugged and caught Jack as he started to run down another hall. “Let me show you your room Jack.”

Jack stilled to think, then regained his self-control. “I’m sorry Coach, I just never played with a puppy before.”  
As they walked down the hall Rose followed like a little caboose. She’d be patient.

 

CM

Hotch helped Spencer into the car. He’d wished he had a sedan but the SUV would have to do. Spencer reached overhead and held the doorway as he pulled himself up into the car. Hotch kept his hand in the small of the other man’s back. Once Spencer was in, he helped belt him in. He looked him in the eye to see if he was holding up, 'cause if he wasn’t they were going to head right back into the hospital.

With all his power to fake well enough to go home, Spencer gave a half smile. “I’m in.”

Hotch frowned, he didn't buy the lie really, but he really wanted to. “Okay, off we go, so you know we’re staying with Dave for awhile.”

“I did know that, didn’t I?”

A worried look crossed Aaron’s face, he nodded. “It’s about 20 minutes away, why don’t you just relax? No sleeping though.”

“Aaron? Why'd he stop? He could have killed me- easily.”

“I don’t know Spencer. I don’t know.”

“I need to rest now.” Spencer said and looked out at the darkness. “It’s night?" He said as if it were a revelation.

Aaron was torn between his worry and the thought that he should take Spencer back to the hospital and his need to have Spencer with him and at home, even if that home was a borrowed room that belonged to a co-worker. “You were in the hospital for a while, and it was mid afternoon when this all happened.”

“Oh, we didn’t get to have dinner.”

“No, but Dave says he’ll save something for us at his house.”

“I’m not very hungry, my stomach feels funny.”

“It’s the concussion.”

Spencer nodded. “You know what Aaron?”

Worriedly, Hotch looked over at his lover. “What’s that Spencer?”

“You really are the best lover, beautiful and concerned and you’re hot and everything.”

“Spencer.” Hotch warned.

“And you’re a superhero.”

Hotch grinned, this was going to be an interesting day or so. Hopefully Spencer wouldn’t need to confess his love indiscriminately. Luckily, the team was aware of their relationship.

“Spencer, you need to rest and not worry about the case, I've got this. Can you do that?”

Spencer thought about that. “I’m not sure. Do you think you can hold me so I can’t think?” Spencer reached across the center console to touch Aaron’s hair, a gentle almost spider-touch.

“I’ll try to provide distractions, yes.”

“Then maybe. But I do need to help on the case, because I don’t understand why he picked our place.”

Silently Hotch nodded, he knew why. He checked his rearview to make sure they weren’t being followed. He’d done it surreptitiously through the entire drive, he hoped that the dummy SUV had led the unsub in the other direction. By the time they reached the turn off he was sure they weren't being followed.


	4. Home Coming Chap 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reid comes home from the hospital. Jack, Spencer and Aaron stay with Dave until the new house is ready. Healing happens.

CMC4

"Hotch I might not be able to help with the case for a while."

"I know. You just need to rest for a couple days."

Reid nodded. "I hate the whole idea."

Hotch smiled as he helped Spencer out of the car. "The ground feels like the car."

Hotch frowned, tried to figure out what that meant. Then it dawned on him. "Your balance is a little off, it'll get better."

"It's one of the symptoms. Lucky I don't have too many of the others."

With a look up at Rossi's house, Spencer tried to whistle. "I forgot Rossi had this giant house."

"Yep, selling a million books will get you that."

"I should take my writing more seriously. Nah, I think I like our new house even better."

"We need to get inside. Are you warm enough?"

Spencer nodded. "Hotch your hands are cold. Why…" The thought trailed away.

Light from the opened door flooded the cold night air. Rossi walked out to help get Spencer up the stairs. Prentiss led them both to the fireplace in the living room, with care she threw a blanket over her shivering boss.

JJ led Spencer to the bedroom he'd share with Hotch, she indicated Hotch should stay where he was until he'd warmed through.

"You gave him your coat? You realize he had his own on right."

Hotch shivered. "He was cold."

Prentiss shook her head, "We always say you're the last southern gentleman."

Hotch frowned at her. The effect completely ruined by a full body shiver.

JJ walked into the room and looked at Hotch, "He won't let me help him get ready for bed. I explained about Henry and being married, but apparently that makes no difference."

"Ah, he's taking this moment to be shy," Rossi laughed, then gave Hotch a hand to rise, "Come on, time to show you your rooms anyway."

"I think I left the ready bags in the car." Hotch stood stock still in the hall.

"No, no Prentiss and JJ got them, don't worry so much. My house, I'll worry okay?"

Hotch nodded and followed. He did feel tired and knew he'd be awake all night to be able to watch Spencer. He yawned and shivered again.

"Jack's in the room two doors from yours, I think he's asleep."

At that very moment a small figure appeared in said doorway. "Daddy?"

Aaron walked over to the door and knelt to his son's level. "Hey champ."

"Daddy, is Spencer going to be okay? Did you catch the bad guy who did this?"

"Spencer is right down the hallway, why don't we go see how he's doing?"

Jack nodded. "I heard them."

Aaron lifted his head and looked at Rossi.

"Uh, you might have to apologize to JJ."

"Ahh," Aaron nodded. "That bad?"

Rossi gave a signature half grin and Jack grabbed his dad's hand to get his attention. "That bad?" He asked his son.

Jack grimaced. "Well you'd probably give me a time out for saying those things to Ms. Jareau."

The three arrived at the doorway, they could see Spencer as he sat on the bed, he leaned against the headboard with his eyes closed.

"Are you asleep?" Jack queried while he jumped onto the bed and curled up against Spencer.

"Spencer?" Aaron gently shook the man's shoulder. "You need to get up for a minute."

"I'm awake. Hi there Jack…"

"Hi Spencer, we're going to keep you awake for a little while."

Aaron got Spencer out of his jacket and shoes. JJ had managed to relieve him of Aaron's coat. Aaron looked over at Rossi and Jack. "We'll need a few minutes."

Jack grabbed Rossi's hand, "Spencer is a little shy," Jack said seriously.

Rossi walked with Jack, "Ready to go back to bed, sport."

"Can I wait up a little while?"

"Sure, come out into the living room with the team, Uncle Derek is here I think."

Jack smiled at Mr. Morgan, or Uncle Derek for when they were unofficial. He walked up to him and Derek lifted him into the air. "Hey there little man, how're things with Spencer and your Dad?"

"Spencer is not feeling good, and daddy hasn't gotten the bad guy yet. But I'm not supposed to worry 'cause the team is working on it."

"You got that right."

Derek looked around at the entire team in Rossi's living room, less the boss and Reid.

Prentiss grinned, "The plan tonight is to wake Reid every hour. Plan B is to make sure the boss gets some sleep."

Derek was pretty sure he'd never seen the team quite as casual as they looked now. But when he thought about it, it was a sleepover. Even Rossi had changed out of jeans and into a pair of sweats.

About fifteen minutes later Hotch appeared, he looked rather bedraggled but dressed in sweats and a long-sleeve t-shirt. He collapsed onto a sofa and watched as the team played gin for a while. Jack sat with him and finally put his head on his dad's lap, asleep in minutes. Aaron toyed gently with the boy's fine hair and was soon asleep as well.

The game got quieter and Rossi got Hotch to put his feet up on the couch and carried Jack off to bed. After half an hour Rossi slipped into Spencer's room.

"Spencer, you have to wake up for a minute, you okay?"

Spencer felt a thousand miles away. "Almost."

"Spencer, can you tell me your name?"

Spencer looked at him critically, "That doesn't seem like a true test of awareness, if you begin the sentence with my name."

"Glad to see you're back."

"Where's Aaron?"

"I'll bring him in, he's asleep in the living room. We wanted both of you to get some rest."

"Is he still cold? He was remarkably cold when we walked in… Damn Rossi he gave me his coat, it was freezing out there."

Rossi just stood there. "It's what he does."

Spencer stared at Rossi. "I know." He said shortly, it caused Rossi to look at him questioningly.

"I'm fine for now, I'll sleep better if Aaron's here." He tapped his fingers against his arms.

"Let me go wake him."

"I can go. He'd wake up better if it's me. You know he won't panic thinking something's wrong, since you let him sleep longer than he expected to…"

"Can you walk? You weren't very steady earlier. The team is here."

Spencer looked at Rossi. "Why?"

"Because we're worried about you."

Empirical data failed him. He knew that they all cared for him some, but this overwhelmed him. He felt clumsy and incomplete. Aaron loved him, he didn't yet understand why completely, but the others? He assumed they put up with him for his abilities.

Getting out of bed was not the best idea. His head swam with it and he sat down suddenly. He considered Rossi. "I might not be able to get to Aaron."

Rossi helped Spencer back under the covers, smiled and said, "Go back to sleep if you can, I'll get Aaron."

An hour later Prentiss walked into the room and tapped his shoulder. "You awake Reid? Need to do an awareness check."

"You aren't going to ask my name?"

Prentiss shook her head. "Tell me something about Jack."

"Jack? He plays soccer, it's his favorite thing- probably because his dad coaches. He reads at the fourth grade level, keeping in mind he's in the first grade that's an excellent thing. His dad and he read to each other every night they're home… And the first thing he asked for in a new home was a fireplace."

Spencer smiled. Aaron was in bed with him. His lover was sound asleep through the entire exercise. "Thanks Emily." Spencer couldn't help but grin at her. She gave him a quick hug and left the room.

Spencer cuddled over to where Aaron slept and spooned against his lover's back. He felt Aaron shiver just a little and he gave a moment to think warm thoughts. He slept within seconds.

Morgan and JJ slipped into the room about an hour and a half later, the entire team had drifted to sleep arrayed across Rossi's living room.

Morgan sat on the bed beside Spencer. "You gonna make this easy?"

"What?" Aaron drifted into awareness. "Is it time?"

Spencer woke almost surprised to see people in his bedroom. "What's going on?"

"We're here to wake you up, pretty boy."

"Oh."

Aaron's half open eyes looked over to his lover. "You're supposed to wake up."

Spencer grinned, "I'm more awake than you are."

Aaron grumbled and rolled back over away from Spencer and Morgan. "You happen to know the year?"

JJ laughed, "I'm not sure I know the year, have we got an easier question?"

"How about why the sky is blue, no don't answer that."

Jack walked in, sleepy, he carried a disreputable looking teddy bear. "Spencer, what book are we reading?"

Spencer looked at the small boy. He frowned. Jack yawned and crawled onto the bed next to his dad.

"Tuesdays at the Castle."

Derek looked at Jack who nodded.

"Ding ding ding, you win."

"Thank you, Derek, thank you all."

"No problem kid."

With that Derek lifted Jack from the bed and he and JJ took the boy to his own room.

At 6 Rossi was up and made breakfast as the team yawned and dragged their way to the dining room. They let Aaron, Spencer and Jack sleep in. Jess arrived at about 7; Aaron and she talked about the next few days, Jess agreed to get Jack to school and back to Rossi's afterward, then Rossi's housekeeper would see that Jack and Spencer were cared for until Rossi and Hotch got home. It was going to be a complicated couple of days. If the team was called away Jess would take Jack to her place and the housekeeper, Mrs. Flores would make sure Spencer was okay- only to discover that Jack was off school that Friday. Rossi, Hotch and Jess were all surprised by Spencer as he volunteered to take care of Jack for the day.

Hotch said noncommittally, "We'll have to see how it goes."

CM

Hotch worked at the small desk in the bedroom while Spencer slept and woke and slept again. He'd sit on the bed with Spencer when he awoke and just listened to the man talk about a myriad subjects. He didn't interrupt, he was just pleased that Spencer was doing well. The puppy followed Aaron's footsteps. When Spencer slept Hotch would work or take a break to walk the puppy.

At about noon Mrs. Flores knocked on the door and said she had lunch ready in the kitchen.

Spencer had such a hopeful look that Aaron offered his arm to help him walk to the kitchen.

"Dave left us some pasta, but I think Doctor Reid might like some soup," Mrs. Flores asserted as they walked down the hall. The puppy happily led the way.

"Toast maybe?"

Mrs. Flores smiled up at the tall young man. "Luckily my son was here yesterday, so we have plain bread. Dave doesn't often have a lot of perishable food around, he's gone from the house too often."

Spencer sat at the bar at the kitchen island. He felt strangely removed, not sure he was out of bed. "Aaron," he mumbled, "I'm not sure I can be here."

Worried, Aaron held Spencer's arm. "How about the living room, a nice sofa- or how about a recliner?"

Spencer nodded, being upright wasn't working out. Somehow Aaron got him to the sofa. He wondered for a moment if Aaron had helped him walk or simply carried him.

He sat sweating on the sofa. Nausea engulfed him, but was gone as fast as it came. He swallowed a half dozen times and Aaron was at his elbow with a small glass of water and a pill, though Spencer wasn't sure for what.

He took it and sat concentrating on staying awake and upright for a little longer.

Mrs. Flores put his soup and toast on the coffee table near him. A clear bubbly liquid was placed on a small napkin in a disproportionately large bowl. The puppy jumped up next to him.

For one moment he thought he'd just pass out and it'd get better, but he caught Aaron's eyes and the worry there. So just to maybe ease his partner's mind, he picked up the spoon carefully and tried the soup, amazingly it was not chicken but something that reminded him of the ramen of his college days. And suddenly, he was hungry.

The toast was absolutely perfect and he nearly giggled at it. The wonder of the taste of a very small amount of butter on toast. He grinned up at Aaron who'd brought his own lunch over and was enjoying just sharing the meal.

Mrs. Flores also had soup and a bit of the leftover pasta and they sat companionably for a time. Reid leaned back in the chair as Hotch cleared away the dishes and poured him a little more water. Mrs. Flores disappeared into the kitchen, first washing dishes and then off to make up beds and clean up the remains of the team's overnight stay. She was never far away and helped Spencer wherever she could. For herself, she looked forward to meeting Dave's friend's son. Her own son now visited every other week from college and she did miss him. Of course a new puppy kept her distracted a lot these days. She'd been pleased that Dave had asked her if she'd mind putting up with one.

Hotch pulled out reports he was working on, he worked at his computer and checked his iPad and compiled as much information about the unsub as he could. The puppy would come over to help now and then, but spent most of her time asleep on the sofa with Spencer.

He got Spencer back into bed, went to the store so that toast could be made again later and then he picked up his favorite brand of coffee and got home just in time to meet Morgan as he arrived.

The two men went into the house to put groceries away and to let Mrs. Flores and Spencer know that they'd be leaving to go to work for the afternoon. They settled Spencer back in the living room then set the television on, with the sound nearly off and Spencer mostly slept.

They waited for a few minutes until Jess arrived with Jack, and made sure that Jess and Mrs. Flores were okay with the plans for the weekend. Jess had plans for her family that could easily include Jack if Aaron were to have to travel. Spencer assured them all that he could take care of Jack if that happened, and Jack sat next to Spencer to add his vote to stay at Dave's for the weekend.

Everyone knew how the puppy would have voted.

CM

"Spencer? Spencer?"

"Jack? Oh, Jack! What is it?"

"Spencer I'm hungry, can we get a snack?"

"Wha..what time is it?"

"It's after school. I usually get a snack after school."

Spencer looked at Jack. "Has your dad called?"

"Not yet."

"Okay, so let's go make a snack."

"I can do it, if you watch. But this is the coach's house, so I think maybe I should have an adult help."

Spencer nodded, he had no clue what Jack was talking about.

"I think daddy bought bread. We could make cinnamon bread."

"I don't know what that is Jack…"

Jack sighed.

With a little difficulty Jack helped pull Spencer off the sofa and into the kitchen.

Spencer stood unsteadily as he held on to the counter. Jack looked up at him expectantly.

"…So toast?"

Jack grinned and nodded.

Jack located the bread on the kitchen island, he climbed onto one of the barstools and pointed it out to Spencer.

"Bread, yes for toast."

Jack inexpertly unwound the twist tie. Half a loaf of bread tumbled onto the counter.

Spencer remembered the wonder of the toast at lunch.

"I wonder where the cinnamon is…" Jack frowned.

"You look like your dad when you frown like that."

"Yeah?" Jack grinned.

Spencer nodded.

"Spencer, we have to make toast first."

"First, we have to find cinnamon." Spencer eyed the cabinets before him.

Jack nodded seriously, he frowned again.

Spencer put the bread slices into the microwave.

"Uhm, uhm Spencer, daddy usually puts them in a toaster or the oven."

"Oh, toaster. Wonder if Dave has a toaster…" Spencer surveyed the kitchen, which made him a little dizzy. "I don't see anything that looks like a toaster."

Jack sat at the bar and put chin in hand. "We could have bread and jelly."

Spencer nodded. "Where do you think the jelly is?" He had a sinking feeling.

Jack bounded down from his stool, he only slightly fell and was able to catch himself on his palms. He ran to the refrigerator that was camouflaged as a cabinet.

With amazing luck Mrs. Flores walked into the kitchen.

"We were just about to make jelly sandwiches," Jack grinned.

The woman pulled the pepper jelly from the boy's hand and replaced it with another of like color but was plum.

"I was completely in the mood for that as well." She deftly removed the bread from the microwave and replaced most of it into the bag it had come from.

CM

Hotch stood outside the front door to his townhouse, he glared at the note on the door that labeled it an active crime scene.

Morgan caught eyes with him, "You really up to this, Hotch?"

"I need you to process the cognitive interview, right now we're on the same page as we were in Baltimore except he left there earlier than he would have."

"You think he might flee?"

Hotch shook his head, "I doubt it. Before there were records of people interrupting him, he'd attack them, wouldn't speak, just disable and disengage- leave 911 a call so they'd get prompt help. He strayed from that though."

Morgan locked eyes with him, "How do you mean? He dialed 911 on Reid's phone- there were smeared leather prints on the keypad."

"What about on the house alarm?" Hotch eyed the device questionably.

"Garcia pulled up it's activation history through ADT, when he would have to have broken in, the alarm was off."

Hotch nodded, "But he did come through the front door?"

"Looks like it, trace recovered micro-shavings, had to be from a pick-set. Hotch, when you got home, what did you see? It was dusk, but there was still enough light to see."

xX

It was 4:30PM, just before dinner time when he approached the front door. He could smell the grill going in the back. A small rake-piece and companion pin fit into the door's locking mechanism and he had it jimmied open in five seconds. The large man pushed the door with a gentle thrust to get it from where it stuck and clear the jam. It offered a soft thump and nothing more. He looked around nervously, a dog might pick up on that, or someone right by the door, but he knew there was no dog and no one was in this room. No, he was in the kitchen in between grill-checks, or out back. It gave him all the time he needed to get inside.

xX

Hotch nodded, he let out a slow breath and put his key in the lock, he turned the knob and instinctually opened the door and scanned the entryway as he stepped inside.

"The house was dark. I had called Spencer when I dropped Jack off, he said he was packing, so it didn't make sense."

xX

He went upstairs first, he had business to do, he cleaned out the sports-cards and petty cash the man kept in his desk, he opened the safe with as much of a button-push but was disappointed to only find family photos. Fire-proof safes were always hit-or-miss. He locked eyes with the photo of a young man, about 10. He ghosted his thumb over the hair in the picture. He slipped the photo into his wallet. He smiled, behind that photo was pay-dirt. A small pile of rare baseball cards, and hot damn! Signed at that!

He stalked back downstairs, he came toward the door by the kitchen- he grabbed a paperweight from the hallway table and a baseball bat that was propped near it then he passed over the pile of mail to venture back toward the kitchen. He threw the paperweight at the ornate knock-off glass-lamp in the living room. The sound it made when it broke got the immediate result.

xX

Morgan followed him inside. Hotch closed the door, he shadowed his movements from the night before. He turned to the alarm and pretended to punch in his deactivation code. His head turned sharply to the right, "I heard something hit the wall, and a dial-tone. Then I heard someone talking from it, an operator."

"Then what?" Morgan asked, he watched Hotch's reactions, the man locked eyes with the closet.

xX

A middle-aged man rushed from the deck-door back inside with a metal spatula raised in his hand.

"What the hell was that?"

That was the last thing he could get out before a devastatingly decisive blow came to the back of his head. The black-haired man went down hard, the larger man found it easy to straddle him as he rained down several blows with the bat, he used the handle to crush in as if he were stabbing the unlucky bastard, but the blunt object made no penetration as it hit the ribs, the shoulder, the face- repeatedly the face. He saw a tooth fly out as he retracted on the last hit, he stilled, smiled at the unconscious heap.

xX

"I didn't smell coffee and for an after-school snack, Jack wanted a pop-tart before practice. I'm not sure if I remembered to unplug it or not. So I went toward the fuse box in the closet… I heard Reid, he was groaning…!" His eyes focused.

"Hotch, listen to me, you knew something was wrong, you knew it when that phone hit the wall, you looked around. You cleared this place, it's instinct for us. What did you see?"

Hotch tightened his eyes as he pursed them shut, "A tall, heavily built man was running, he was dressed in dark clothing. He didn't stumble even though there are boxes in the hall, he was comfortable with his exit strategy. He got to the glass door, he was out the door and to his car by time I reached the patio…"

"What did the car look like?"

"It was a sedan, dark grey… the interior was dark- it was an Altima, looked new, it looked like it belonged in the area… the plate… it was DC plates, DH5 something…"

"That's good, that's great…"

xX

The man stood up, picked up his grab-bag, and the wallet he fished out of the other man's pocket and keys. He'd ditch the car within five miles, but not before he got back to his 'rental'. He dialed 911 and dropped the phone to the man's side.

Sure it was a surrogate, but it felt great to just pretend it was that bastard Hotchner.

xX

"…It was parked strategically, so I couldn't read it when he got into the car, but when he sped off I caught a glimpse." He paused, "Then I ran back in to find Reid… he was bleeding, his forehead was split open."

Morgan put a hand on Hotch's shoulder. "We'll catch the son of a bitch."

"…Reid said he spoke to him, the unsub… he was taunting him. He thought he was attacking me, Morgan. I provoked him in Maryland, but there's no way he'd have known I fit his modus operandi…"

He looked up, "At the press conference, he was AT the press conference! Before we went on air, Reid called me, he told me our offer was accepted. I want their tapes. The cameramen were setting up, they might have caught live feed of the unsub. I didn't see him on the street, so maybe he was in his car or in a store?"

"I'll have Mama Bear Garcia get right on that. Hotch, what did he tell Reid?"

"Reid wasn't one-hundred-percent, but it was referencing the press conference. Called him a Hot-shot and called him a dog, told him to roll over."

"You said you'd chase him down like a dog?"

xX

He loaded into the spacious SUV, he had to say the Lexus had a smooth ride, it was a shame he had to ditch it so soon. But not before he had a little fun with it.

He planned to drop the car off two blocks from the townhouse he had visited the night before. He almost shit a brick when he drove by and saw the Federal-Issued SUV parked up front. He was curious, curious enough to drive around a second time, he saw some black guy at the door, he was looking at his handy work.

"…Trace recovered micro-shavings…"

The man smirked as he parked the car directly out front. He'd walk back to his car. Couldn't give the feds too hard of a time.

xX

Hotch nodded, his eyes were hard and cold. He was so angry at himself, he should have anticipated this sooner.

"Think Reid is up to an interview yet?" Morgan asked. Hotch shook his head.

"He needs a few days away from this, let him rest through the weekend, then I'll interview him."

"Alright. Oh hold up, Garcia's dialing… Hey baby girl, what's up?"

"Am I on speaker phone?"

"Not just yet, should you not be?" He gave a toothy smile as he switched her onto speaker. "Ok, you're live. Behave."

"This sicko just bashed the very real brains in of a man named Arnold Rhodes. He's currently en-route to Georgetown Hospital as we speak."

Hotch's eyes crinkled, "Garcia, I need you to set up a press conference, it should not be live feed, have them record it for the 6 and 11 o'clock news. Morgan, you're with me. I want it in front of Georgetown Hospital and in twenty minutes, Garcia."

The blond's fingers were flying over her keys, "I'm on it sir!"

CM

There was a small crowd formed at the admittance bay of GH. The ER bay was notably off limits, as it would interfere with the hospital's functionality, but the main entrance was fair game apparently.

Hotch stood before four major news networks, CBS, ABC, CNN and NBC each represented by their own news trucks. A smaller local crew was there as well with their affiliate-signs on their van. All in all it was a perfectly manageable circus.

He straightened his shoulders, he had to look intimidating. He had to look like he possessed the eyes of the world and could see straight through the camera and at the unsub when he'd speak. That bastard had to know, had to FEEL the fear of god- or more specifically the fear of Agent Hotchner he was about to put into him.

That in mind, he signaled for the reporters to start taping.

"Tonight, the DC area was rocked by a cold-hearted crime," he started, "In a home-invasion turned assault, a local man was brutally attacked from behind. This is related to a rash of crimes that are now being investigated by the FBI. The BAU will not stop until we hunt down the man responsible for such a senseless crime. We will not stop until we find him, he will be arrested, and he will be charged for these atrocities. The general public should know this man is physically large, but he will not appear intimidating. In fact, he will seem approachable because of how soft he is. He is a coward, he will avoid confrontation, he'll placate anyone willing to speak with him. This is how he gets through his day, he bows weakly in confrontation unless he can achieve an upper prefers to find a weapon in the house, because he can't even trust his own ability to fend for himself without it. He is cunning, he is reprehensible recreant, and he is catchable."

"Agent Hotchner, do you believe he is still in this area?"

"Absolutely, because he's too afraid to leave the DC area right now- he knows that the increased police presence will only be a matter of time before someone runs the stolen plates to his car, and arrest him."

"Agent Hotchner, why is he attacking victims in their own homes? Wasn't he just a house-burglar before?"

"He was, but he is quickly devolving. This unsub is unstable, he is driven by fear and paranoia. And if he's watching tonight, I want to let him know the hairs standing up on the back of his neck aren't his nerves. No, now it's me. Breathing down your neck because I will find you, and when I do I will arrest you. You will go to jail and you will be brought to justice for the murders you've committed."

"Agent Hotchner, Agent Hotchner!"

"Thank you all for your time and cooperation. I'll take two more questions. Yes?"

"Is the suspect working alone?"

"As of right now, we know he breaks into houses alone. However, we do believe he has an accomplice who fences the material he steals."

"Who is at risk to this unsub?"

"People who have recently sold their homes should take down their For-Sale Sold signs or leave up the For-Sale signs without this indicator. The unsub targets recently sold homes in upper-middle class neighborhoods. He has a false sense of entitlement because he can't provide for himself without theft and looks down at those able to do so. Beyond being a coward, this man is childish and selfish. He justifies his crimes to himself but there is no justification. He is a weak willed and greedy and we will not tolerate his criminal actions in the DC area. Thank you all for coming out, good night."

Hotch stepped back from the microphone to Morgan, "Alright, let's get back to Rossi's. Did the police find any stolen vehicles parked in the area?"

"No, no he wasn't here. Hotch, he parked the victim's missing Lexus outside your townhouse. Right in the front. I know he's passive-aggressive unless he feels he has the upper hand, but that took some balls. He did that while we were there, man."

"And yet he didn't come in and say hi. Shame really." Hotch let out a hiss, "Alright, I want surveillance on the townhouse. He's coming back because he wants something."

"Something or someONE Hotch? You're using yourself as bait."

"I was already bait, this time I'll make sure he stays focused on it better."

Morgan shook his head, "You gonna tell Reid or am I?"

"I'll keep him in the loop once he's up to it. He isn't ready to be on this case yet."

TBC.

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	5. Home Coming Chap 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer in recovery. Thanks again to our beta and the fans who keep us writing.

Home Coming C5CM

Saturday's morning sunlight peaked through the thick curtains and assaulted Spencer's eyes. He grimaced as the bright oranges burned his retina, out of focus without his glasses or contacts. He slowly pealed himself from the bed where he could tell Aaron had slipped in sometime within the last few hours.

His side of the bed was still cool, hardly warmed by his presence.

Silently, he gathered up his satchel and left the bedroom with eastern exposure for the westward living room. His head pulsed with his heart and he found the agonizing staccato made him dizzy.

Upon his arrival to the living room, he sprawled out onto the couch in front of the coffee-table, his maps which he matched to the files he had read through over the last week all played out, the images overlapped, but the feeling of being out of the loop was there. It wasn't that his friends thought he couldn't do the job, it was that they wanted to coddle him and Reid did NOT need to be coddled when some psychopathic ass was after his family. No, he could do this and he was GOING to do this.

Mrs. Flores, who seemed surprised to see him up and about at this hour, had kindly put a pot on to brew. Before he smelled the freshly percolated beans, a cup was already at the side of his paperwork. He smiled his gratitude then went back to the piles. It was all there, in his mind. The puzzle pieces were present, he just had to assemble it, and the ache in the back of his neck through the front of his skull made that a difficult feat.

The attack itself was still mostly a blur. He could have sworn the son of a bitch had mentioned Hotch though- and a dog. He tried to focus on the voice, he thought there was a distinct accent in there. He looked at the map, everything had been up and down the east coast over the past few years, but the first signs from furthest back had been Southwest to Southeast, then after then, everything was Eastern.

He suspected the unsub originally hailed from Southern California, maybe LA? He wasn't certain though. There was a lot of bleed-over in pronunciations and the conversation was so short and didn't contain any particular markers or colloquialisms for him to be more specific.

Unsure of how long he had been staring down the map, he looked up to spot Jack and Rose just stare back at him from across the room.

He blinked at the unexpected scrutiny, he found a clock and squinted, by it's measure, it was 10AM. He'd been at this for a few hours, he looked at the marks on the map in time to realize his geographic profile literally suggested a worst-case scenario. The comfort zones were not limiters. He was a nomadic type who was comfortable in and around the areas he targeted. He was obsessive though, which meant he might very well be nearby enough to watch the damage he did unfold. Had he struck again yet? His game plan changed, this time he was coming back to hurt people, not to rob them. Well, no, that wasn't completely out of it- he had tried to steal from Reid, hadn't he? He squinted his eyes, the thought was just out of reach about what happened.

Reid let his eyes close as he leaned back, he didn't hear Hotch come in, but he did notice he felt comfortably warm when the blanket was draped over him.

"Hey buddy, what are you and Rose doing in here? It's beautiful outside, don't you want to play?"

Jack shook his head, "I'm keeping guard on Spencer." His studious face made Aaron smile as he patted Jack's head.

"Thanks for helping out, but I'm here right now, I can keep an eye on him, so why don't you ask Mrs. Flores if she'll make you lunch? I'm sure Spencer will wake up soon too."

"Ok daddy!" Jack hugged his dad's legs then bounded down the hall and past one 'Coach' Rossi.

Aaron put a hand on Spencer's shoulder, "Spencer, bed or lunch?"

"Mm? Huh? I'm up, I'm up. I uh, the file's on the corner of my…"

"Spencer, you don't have to push yourself like this, we've got this."

"Huh? Sure… right…" Spencer blinked his eyes, clearly more awake, but went immediately to shuffle papers and make Aaron feel almost certain he hadn't heard what he said at all. "He's from California- Southern, coastal- probably."

"Spencer?"

"And he is probably within a five-mile radius of the crime scenes he's targeting, but without another few points it would make it impossible to triangulate. Do you have those data-points?" He flipped through his loose papers, he half-hoped the file was on the coffee-table.

"Spencer, Reid- it's Saturday. It's your day off, it's everyone's day off."

Spencer blinked, his face serious as he locked eyes with Aaron. "So what if it's Saturday? He went after the team… he's targeting us… you… How can you think I'm going to stop until we've caught this guy?"

"I can't have you run yourself thin, Spencer, have you even taken a look at yourself in the mirror? You look like hell."

His lover glowered, "Well, I've seen you at 4AM too, but thanks for the input." The younger man pouted. He turned to glare at Rossi as he heard the man snicker.

"Lovers' Quarrel?" Rossi asked, the ballsy bravado anything but faked.

"Besides, the sooner we solve this, the sooner we can get out from Rossi's hair. I'm sure he wants his house back."

"Mansion," Rossi clarified with a smirk, "I like to call it a mansion."

"Dave, did you need something?" Aaron asked as he gave a none-too-subtle glare to his friend. He only felt slightly bad for it, he had put his friend out after all, but he and Spencer needed to have this conversation.

"I'd love to have my man-cave back to not looking like the bullpen, you do know I have three distinct studies you could use, don't you Reid?"

Reid blushed, he pushed the papers together to couple them, but Hotch took hold of them with a bit of finality.

"It can wait until Monday. You have a cognitive interview scheduled for then, anyways."

Reid's eyebrows furrowed, "…Since when?"

Aaron put his hand on Spencer's cheek, "But only if you take the next few days to rest, got it? You look exhausted."

With impeccable timing, Mrs. Flores and Jack came into the room to announce lunch was ready and being served in the dining room. The quick look she got to straighten up the living room and maybe relocate the materials to the study was priceless. David Rossi was more finicky about where he kept things than he'd usually let on.

She smiled and made way to straighten the room.

Jack burst out in laughter upon his return to the dining room where Rose was happily mouthing half of a sub she had coaxed half-off the table, dressing dripped onto the hardwood floor and Rossi's eyebrow twitched.

"Why you little…" Rose was soon chased out to the back with calls of, 'Bad dog!' and 'No-good mooch!' filled the air in Italian, or at least that's what Aaron assumed was being said. He wasn't exactly fluent.

The rest of Saturday had been spent on the bihourly interval to chase Spencer out of the study and back to his guest room to sleep, though he had admittedly fallen asleep in the chair to the study two additional times.

Jack, and the now un-banished Rose, sat by the door to keep sentinel- only once falling asleep in a pile themselves. Jack's fingers resting on Rose's short soft fur as he used her as a body pillow and heating pad.

Aaron worked in the study after the second half of the day, not before he fielded a call from the Baltimore PD about a witness who spoke of a man who had spoken of Auburn that matched the description of the unsub sans the mask. Then again, it was hard to say for certain if it was the same person or not, though. After all, he wasn't hitting anyone in the head, he could've just been a new man in a new town with a large build. She did say he didn't sound like he was from Auburn though, that had been what made him stand out. He didn't sound southern at all. If she was being honest, he spoke with a News-Anchor accent.

After that, Aaron returned to the study, he told Spencer about the other victim, a man who was now in a coma, and saw his lover's face pucker up.

"…He isn't targeting the BAU at all, is he, Aaron?"

The older man gave his lover a look. He could see the flash of recognition in those unruly orbs.

"You gave the press conference, right? And then the second one… I missed it, but Jack said you were on TV yesterday then asked me what recreate meant. You called him a recreant. You provoked him to draw a target on your…"

"Spencer, calm down. This is part of the job, you know-"

"I'm not MAD about that, Aaron! I just can't believe you didn't tell me you did that! That changes the weight in the distribution for the geographical profile!" He let out a breath, "What else aren't you telling me? And if you try to bench me, I will call Morgan, and he'll tell me, you know he will."

Hotch let out a breath, Reid was absolutely right the other agent would, too.

"The unsub left the car of the second victim in front of the townhouse."

Reid's eyes went wide. "When?"

"…Within an hour of his attack."

"I want to go to the townhouse now." Spencer said, face dead serious.

"No." Aaron said just as seriously.

"I need to remember something but it's just out of my reach, you said I'm going to have a cognitive interview, but I need to do it there…"

"And you can do that on Monday."

Spencer's shoulders slumped, he could see the dug-in stance Aaron was making. If he pushed he'd just be met with more resistance, and maybe even a pull back, "Fine. Monday. But I'm going there on Monday."

"We both will, Morgan and JJ too, that's the plan at least."

Spencer nodded, he felt exhausted after that. "Aaron, 'Take me to bed or lose me forever.'" He leaned heavily into his lover's shoulder. He didn't want this to be a fight, he couldn't take that and a headache. Not right now.

CM

The room was quiet and Aaron led Spencer to the bed.

Spencer sighed heavily, "I miss us."

"Excuse me?"

"You know, being together."

Aaron smiled broadly, "I knew you were in it just for the sex."

Spencer crawled under the sheets and looked up. "I thought you knew, I'm just into this for your body."

Aaron sat on the bed then looked at his lover. "You really are not ready for anything like that."

Spencer shrugged and yawned. "I know, but I wanted to keep you on your toes."

"I'm taking a shower now."

"You don't want company?"

Aaron laughed, "Spencer, don't tempt me." He toed off his shoes and took off his tie.

Spencer's eyes closed and he breathed deeply, "Don't even think I don't know what you'll be doing in there besides the showering part."

"You think I have that much energy left?" Aaron undid his belt, removed his shirt and trousers.

"I'm going to sleep now."

Aaron sat on the bed to take off his socks. "I love you, you know that."

Eyes opened coyly, Spencer smiled at his half undressed lover. "I know, take a fast shower, I want to feel you holding me when I go to sleep."

As he stepped out of his boxers, Aaron quickly put the day's clothes into the laundry, he took only a moment to fold the suit he'd been wearing.

All said, the shower and oral hygiene routine took less than ten minutes and he was holding his Spencer just before the younger man fell asleep.

CM

Spencer woke up slowly the next morning, he vaguely heard Jack in the room. "What? What is it?" he asked.

"Sh..sh..Jack's going to go to church and lunch with Dave. Go back to sleep."

Spencer raised his head and watched Jack give his dad a quick kiss goodbye. The boy was in a suit. Spencer shook his head. Hotchners he thought.

After he heard the front door close and lock, Spencer sat up in bed.

"Aaron, I'm not sleepy."

Aaron tried to get his eyes to open again. "Ten minutes?"

"Uhmm well, I could take care of this, but…"

Aaron grinned, his eyes still closed. He rolled over and kissed his lover. "Well we could take care of this and go back to sleep."

"We could, or I could and you could just listen."

Aaron raised his brows, "yeah, but you'd be thinking it was me anyway."

With a shrug, Spencer allowed, "You're probably right, but seriously if this doesn't get attention soon, it'll likely take care of itself."

With a quiet laugh Aaron reached down and took Spencer's cock into his hand.

"Holy fuck Aaron, your hand is frozen, where have you been keeping it?"

He quickly released his lover, "Sorry, but just give me a minute…"

"No, no more minutes, jerk me off with your frozen hand, I don't care."

"Your wish is my command." He rubbed his hands together to try to get some warmth in them, then again held Spencer's cock in the circle of his fingers. He stroked the hard on gently at first, but it was pretty obvious that Spencer was close already, so he sped up and moved closer. He rubbed his own semi-hard cock against Spencer's thigh.

Spencer reached down and touched Aaron, and Aaron's hips tightened and thrust of their own accord. "Oh fuck, Spencer, wait or I'll lose track."

There were few things Spencer enjoyed more than an overwhelmed Aaron Hotchner and just then he realized the opportunity, so he started thinking about presidents of the United States, he tried to get them in the right order by four-counts. He managed barely to slow himself down and get Aaron to about lose his control when he rubbed against him.

Instead, Aaron started to stroke stronger and faster and they were soon both so close they weren't going to hold off. Spencer pulled on Aaron's cock and Aaron stroked as hard.

With the suddenness of a switch Spencer was spilling onto his own belly and Aaron was only seconds behind in his reaction to the punishing squeeze that Spencer had given his cock as he'd started to come.

Spencer lay back on his pillow, his breathing was hard as he fought to catch his breath. Aaron's head rested against his chest and Spencer rubbed along the part of his lover's back that he could reach. Within fifteen minutes Aaron was breathing deeply and seemed to be headed for sleep when Spencer leaned down and said. "I'm not quite done."

"No?" Aaron whispered. "I forgot that you had this short refractory time."

And Spencer was again hard in his hand. "Mmm, what would you like?"

"Turn on your side."

Aaron turned so that Spencer could spoon against his back. He felt Spencer, hot and hard against his back. He tensed.

"Shhh, shh, it's okay. Let me do this."

Aaron relaxed himself; he felt his lover's hardness between his legs. Spencer thrust against him, he pushed at his balls from behind, friction throughout the entire push and pull of it. Then Spencer reached around him and started to stroke his mostly flaccid cock, at first he got no more than a twitch of interest, but then it drew upward and lengthened. Spencer continued his thrusts and strokes until Aaron was once again hard, and breathed raggedly. Spencer's other hand now joined his cock and began the slow tease of Aaron's hole.

"Lube?" Spencer whispered in Aaron's ear.

Aaron moved uncomfortably from the bed to get to his go bag. He vaguely knew where the lube was.

Spencer laid on the bed as he stroked himself languidly, while Hotch, ragingly hard and only an inch from orgasm brought the lube back to the bed.

With practiced ease they ended up back nearly the same way they'd been before remembering lube would make the whole process immeasurably better for them both.

Spencer stroked lube onto his cock and pressed some into his lover. Aaron tensed hard to stop himself from coming right at that moment.

He gently encouraged Aaron to bend his leg and Spencer moved in. He gently pushed into his lover's body. Aaron sighed brokenly, he licked his lips and moved back to encompass more of Spencer's cock into him. He swore gently that he felt complete. It wasn't that Spencer never did this, but it was rare enough that it overwhelmed his body and mind.

Spencer felt the incredible heat that was the inside of his lover and he wanted to be there forever, to be surrounded, completed this way. He thrust slowly, he stilled and felt Aaron moan against the pillow. He couldn't help to move again, to thrust again, to search. He stilled and felt Aaron move and thrust back against him, he filled himself with Spencer's cock.

Sweat slicked them both now, even though they both were trying to keep it slow and pleasurable, but their maleness betrayed them and soon they were struggling against each other for the ultimate, for the heat that would sear though them together and separately.

Spencer caught hold of Aaron's cock and started the rhythm they were setting with their connected bodies. Aaron was totally overwhelmed and the noises he made had nothing to do with words and Spencer dove into that madness.

Aaron's cock moved like a live thing in his hand, he felt the balls tighten against him and knew that they were both there. Then suddenly the heat, the movement and the smell of his lover came together to start that cascade that ends in the fiery explosive orgasm.

He held Aaron as his body spasmed around him. They stayed locked together for such a short time afterward that they both missed it when completely spent Spencer's cock slipped from his lover. He held on tight.

Aaron fell into a sound sleep for several minutes as Spencer leaned against his neck. He reached up to play with the dark hair and realized his hand was covered in come. He smiled, he knew his fastidious lover would likely be unhappy if his hair was combed through with his own come. Spencer wiped his hands on the sheets.

"Oh fuck," he said.

"What is it?" Aaron mumbled, still mostly asleep.

"Rossi's sheets!"

Aaron laughed into the pillow. "I'll do laundry when I wake up."

"And we can say I'm still sick. Besides I think my cock hurts."

"Overuse."

Aaron slept.

Half an hour later Aaron was up and after a quick shower together – and no, there was no sex there; he stripped the bed, and found the linen to remake the bed where he then threw the rather overused sheets into the washer. Spencer had no idea where the washer was, but Aaron came from the direction of the kitchen.

As he went through his go bag Spencer thought that perhaps he should find the pair of laundry machines later, but Aaron collected dirty clothes on his return and promised to do another load after the sheets.

"If we're lucky the sheets'll be done before Rossi returns."

"My hero," Spencer laughed.

TBC.

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	6. Home Coming Chap 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> unsub strike close to home

CMC6

Spencer could not believe how much better he felt as he and Hotch drove into Quantico on that Monday morning. It was as if his mind was finally his own. The vagueness and confusion seemed completely gone now and all that was left was to talk to the psychologist at Quantico, re-qualify at the shooting range and catch the unsub who'd attacked him. He looked at Hotch and couldn't help but smile.

"I need to remember to thank everyone on the team."

Hotch nodded, seemingly deep in thought. "You feeling okay? Are you going to be up for a day at work?" He realized he was over-worrying the whole thing, Reid would know if he was ready to return to work. "If it works for you, we'll head over to the townhouse later. Are you going to be okay with that?"

"Yes, I think I'll be able to handle that without much of a problem. I keep thinking I'm missing something important, the cognitive interview on location should help. I'm glad we're moving out, though."

"I'm not feeling okay about it Spencer, I'm so sorry for putting you in harm's way. The unsub found my address. It's unnerving." The sudden guilt of it settled over him.

"Hotch you had no way of knowing he'd find the house so quickly."

"But I should have called again."

Spencer frowned, "You can't second guess yourself Hotch, you got there in time. Besides I'm doing fine now. Really, I feel completely better."

With a shake of his head, Hotch stole a look at his lover. "You look just fine."

"You said that this morning." Reid set his hand in his lap. "And there's no time to think about that."

A smile ghosted over Hotch's lips.

"Just stop that Aaron, or we'll have to pull off the road."

"I'm stopping, we're already late."

Spencer looked at his watch, neatly over his cuff. "Luckily, Rossi lives closer to Quantico than we used to."

CM

The morning sped by, there was so much to do and the work eagerly swallowed the time. Reid spent forty five minutes with the psychologist, who signed him off mentally fit to return. He sat at his desk and looked up to see Hotch power through files and consults.

The teammates that would head to the townhouse took a short lunch together to discuss the plan for the cognitive interview. Morgan offered, again, to do it.

"I'd be more objective."

"You would be, Morgan, but Hotch was actually there. He might remember something as well." Reid assured him.

Morgan nodded.

"If you're with us you might hear something the two of us say that'd spark something," Hotch added.

"And me?" JJ asked.

"We think your view might be different."

"So we'll be there to listen."

"And interpret, if you need to," Hotch said. "Besides, you'll both be our backup."

The four loaded into the Suburban and were off to Arlington. Hotch had done the drive so often that he easily slipped through the noon-time traffic.

"We've figured out since the unsub has been working on the East Coast that he's likely just choosing cities off the main freeways," JJ said as she referred to Reid's geographic profile.

"I-95 here, when he was on the West Coast he followed the 5. In Texas it was Route 20," Reid started to fill in. "But the question is does he do it because it's simpler or because he has to."

"We'll catch him, then we'll know," JJ concluded.

CM

The townhouse felt cold and empty. The moving company had been there while Spencer had slept on Rossi's couch. His FBI jacket suddenly didn't feel nearly warm enough. He looked at Aaron who he had always thought was impervious to weather but was actually more sensitive to cold than anyone else on the team sans himself; though no one else seemed to know that besides him.

Spencer unlocked the door and took down the crime scene tape. "This wasn't there that day." With a crinkle of his nose, he moved into cognitive interview mode.

"You were packing," Hotch prompted with a strong but gentle tone.

"I was putting the study into boxes, labeling them. I made an inventory for a couple boxes that had some of my important books."

"Handwritten?"

"Yeah, I had a legal tablet and the fountain pen that Dave gave me for Christmas last year. I was actually enjoying the process, wondering if when we got to the house it'd make unpacking easier, or if it'd just be another piece of paper we'd toss."

"So you were packing your desk…"

"Right, I'd written on the box. There's a place on the box and I marked it as my personal desk belongings. The purple sharpie ink smudged on my palm." He moved his hand to mimic his memory of the event.

"After you called, I kept at it. It was a forest of boxes in here but I got the study done. Then I thought to make coffee, I knew I could use a cup and that you'd like one when you got here." He smiled softly at the idea of a warm cup, he refocused his eyes, his look went a degree cooler.

"You were in the kitchen, do you remember hearing or seeing anything?"

"Shadows and stacks of boxes, a stray dinosaur Jack had out that morning- the sun was going down. No nothing, I can't find the coffee, I'm searching for it, here it is, It got pushed behind the sugar." He mimed the coffee extraction process, bag opened, scoop filled preloaded filter reloaded with bean, water already in the chamber at the fill-line. "The coffee maker was on the counter ready to brew… like the plan; it would be the last thing packed."

Aaron nodded, he remembered that point.

"Then the lights went out. It's dark." His breathing quickened, "I… I looked to see if I had too many things plugged in… I looked for the toaster." He matched words to action as his hand ghosted along the plugs and appliances. "-But it was too dark to really see if it was. It had to be the fuse… I thought about how you hate that fuse box. I opened the drawer where the flashlight's supposed to be, but it wasn't there. There was enough light to get to the closet and the fuse box, so I just hoped the fuses were still where they were last time I was in there." He scratched his nails over the seam of his trousers.

He led the team to the utility closet, he felt his heart pound with a sense of adrenalin. "I opened the door, wait, no- it was slightly open when I got there, I didn't think anything of it then, and like that he was on me, just as fast as that…"

"Reid, it's not as fast as that- what was your impression of him, size, smell…?" Hotch said gently.

"Really big, very tall, at least 5 inches taller than me, maybe more. And big, well over two hundred and fifty pounds, like football-player big, he was dressed in black, Caucasian, light brown hair, no facial hair. His accent was indiscernible- it was a newscaster or 'General American' accent. He pushed my head into the fuse box and was yelling at me. My head was hit and I was bleeding, I think I fell- he put his foot on my neck. He kept asking me who I was. He thought I was Hotch at first, but recognized I wasn't. He called 911, he called…"

Reid reached out and touched Hotch's hand. "And then you were there."

"You kept trying to tell me something."

Reid shook his head his eyes were moist as he tried to recall the detail, "I don't remember."

"That's okay," Hotch put a hand on Reid's shoulder.

"My mind, I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't get words to form... I remember I wanted to say something I just… can't even remember what anymore." Hotch didn't lose sight of how Reid's chest was rising and falling more rapidly as he dug through his vast memory and came up blank.

"It's okay Spencer. You're with me now, you're safe."

Morgan looked at Hotch and nodded.

Morgan asked, "Before he left you, do you recall anything, anything at all?"

Reid frowned, "He was going to take my watch."

"You still have it?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah, he threw it back at me."

"Any idea why?"

Reid shook his head. Hotch slipped Reid's watch off his wrist and turned it in his hand. "It has an inscription, it'd be too hard to pawn."

"It's from my mom, one of the times when she was doing okay, it was for graduating college. It's not designer or anything, but it's worked all these years."

Hotch looked to JJ and she said, "Reid did he get close enough for you to recognize him, if you saw him again- if you sat with a sketch artist would that help us?"

With a slow shake of his head he added, "He wore a hooded sweatshirt. And really it was so fast." Spencer took a moment to concentrate. "He smelled like toothpaste."

JJ smiled, "An unsub with decent hygiene, well that's pretty good."

"Not exactly something to identify him with," Reid said. "When he got my cellphone I thought he was going for my gun. I didn't even have my gun because I was packing… but I was so sure he was going to kill me. But then he stopped."

"You weren't his target," Morgan said.

"And he's not killing by accident, maybe his first was misdirected, but it hasn't been random. He meant to hurt the reporter. He struck out at the man last night possibly from anger," Morgan said.

"Enough," Hotch said and Morgan stared at him.

"Yeah, okay. I'm going out to the truck. Don't stay in here too long. Coming JJ?"

They figured they'd leave Hotch and Reid to talk about the target on Hotch's back, the two other agents headed to the SUV.

"Hotch?" Reid asked. "How big a target is on there anyway?"

"I'm so sorry Spencer. It's something I had to do, to draw him out. If he's after me I'm hoping he won't hurt anyone else."

"He stopped before he killed me, because I wasn't the target?"

Hotch nodded.

Spencer turned away to think.

Hotch's phone rang. "Spencer wait, let me get this, it's Garcia."

Spencer looked back at his boss and lover. "What's up?"

Hotch raised a finger in a wait gesture and took two steps away to listen to Garcia. "A lead," he said quietly and turned to listen.

From the shadows, the unsub moved silent as a whisper. The pipe in his hand his weapon. He took out Reid with a single blow to the side of the chest, just above the Kevlar. With his fist, he landed a second hit that was nearly as silent to the side of Reid's face. Reid went down cold.

Still listening to Garcia, Hotch heard only vaguely the sound of Reid hit floor. He turned as the unsub disappeared into the shadows. "Reid!" He dropped his phone and rushed to Reid.

Reid's hand reflexively made contact with Hotch, it landed on his left ankle before he could form any words of warning. As soon as Hotch got near his partner, the unsub appeared and took a swing to his gut, below his Kevlar.

He went down hard as the unsub hit the side of his head. The third swing hit his right arm.

Reid blinked his eyes into focus as the unsub kept striking Hotch, each blow took the pair further and further from him and eventually subsided ten feet away as the seemingly inert body of his lover dropped to the floor. The unsub hit Hotch's jaw and drew his fist back again. Reid rolled over so that he was able to push himself upward, he looked at the gun in his hand and recognized it as coming from Hotch's ankle holster. He raised the gun.

"Stop, now!" he yelled, though his voice was ragged. He tried to center himself, he whispered to himself, "Focus." He could hear the word in Hotch's voice echo and reverberate.

The unsub stopped to look at him, he shook his head. "I'm going to kill him, leave me alone and you get to live."

"Not happening. I won't let you. Stop."

"You gonna do what? Bleed on me?" The unsub laughed.

Spencer raised the gun.

"Do it," the unsub taunted. He turned back to Hotch and struck the unconscious man once again.

Spencer fired. The bullet hit somewhere in the man's center.

The unsub got up and picked up the pipe he had used.

Spencer fired again. This time he aimed for the upper left center.

The unsub took steps towards Reid.

Spencer fired again and again, upper left, upper right, knee- he remembered just how much that hurt too- shoulder, head- until the clip was empty.

He didn't know when the unsub went down, he suspected it was the last shot. He dropped the emptied gun and stumbled past the unsub and to Hotch. He cleared the pipe as he went past. He only vaguely realized a large puddle of red was residing where he had been standing before.

JJ and Morgan rushed into the house at the sound of rapid gunfire.

They found Reid near what looked like the body of their boss. He was checking for a pulse on his bloody neck. One found, Reid looked up at Morgan.

"You're here. Hotch's alive," his voice rasped, and with that Reid slumped over to Hotch's side.

"Shit! Reid, what the hell happened! Reid?" Morgan stared at the pools of blood, then again he supposed that was his answer. Morgan worked to keep pressure on Reid's wound while JJ tried to rouse Hotch and assess his injuries.

The ambulance arrived within minutes.

"How the hell did this happen?" JJ asked Morgan, both dumb-founded by the pile of bodies in a house that moments ago had just been… so normal.

"The unsub must have re-picked the locks, he was probably waiting for his chance." Morgan growled, he kicked the pipe even further from the dead man's reach. "Well, now that we know who he is, let's find out who he was. You callin' Dave or am I?"

"Oh, if I have a choice, I'll call Rossi, you get Garcia."

"Woman you are cold," Morgan said, though the joke didn't reach his lips. "This is getting old."


	7. Home Coming Chap 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotch goes through surgery.

CMC7

Exhaustion spanned the room, as did anger even if no one broadcast it. It was an occupational hazard that he knew about it anyways. They were in his room instead of the waiting room, because really, the waiting room was the worst.

Instead, five able bodies swarmed Reid's hospital bed. Not a one would meet the look in his eyes.

"Any word on Hotch?" he tried for the umpteenth time. Prentiss had left for a few minutes and came back, he doubted it was a well-needed bathroom break after consuming 8 cups of coffee, because he didn't believe more than 3 of those as actual coffee runs. JJ had left a handful of times to check in as well, she and Rossi left once to check in with Mrs. Flores, Jack, and Jess. Garcia had come and gone a few times with proffers of coffee, sweets, and any normalcy she could muster.

Reid locked eyes with Morgan, it had only been 6 hours and yet it had been six long, exhaustive hours, hell, he had only been fully awake for 4 of them. He hadn't seen Morgan drift in or out once though.

"He's still in surgery. I told the head nurse where to find us. Funny, she didn't seem too surprised," Emily offered, she hesitated to put her hand on his foot but opted not to use the point of contact method.

"You know when Hotch gets out of surgery he's going to want that man's name, that man's life on a platter ready to be served to him," Reid smiled, because the alternative was not a possibility.

Garcia let out a choked sob. "I am NOT letting you out of my sight!"

Reid didn't have the heart to tell her she had already, three times since he woke up. Instead he smiled- still trying to diffuse the tension around him, "Morgan's with me. He's got my back, besides, the unsub isn't about to walk in here… well, unless there's a toxic cloud reanimating zombies that you've all failed to mention to me."

Garcia smiled with wet sloppy tears beading fatly at the edges of her not-so-waterproof mascara. Reid would assume she'd write a letter except, well, it's Garcia. It would be an email.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to muscle us out, kid," Rossi offered.

Reid let out a snort and bowed his head.

"Well I'm not leaving, baby-girl. So you can do your thing, but both of you are benched till you're medically cleared and that means I'm acting SAIC."

Reid let out a laugh, "Let's see what Hotch has to say about that."

"He'll totally agree, Morgan was kicking around this mini-skirt agenda and dress-code reform, and I can see Hotch getting behind it- by it we all mean you." Garcia winked as Reid did his best to impersonate the color magenta.

"And on that note… I'm getting some food. Prentiss, come with me?" Rossi offered. "I can't live off stale hospital coffee and staler hospital donuts and while he has to-" Rossi so kindly pointed to Reid, "the rest of us don't. I'll bring back some, so place your orders."

It was an hour later when Rossi and Prentiss came back with an obscene number of bags of food, and ten minutes after that, the surgical resident came in.

"I was informed this is the Hotchner party?" He looked at the hodge-podge group.

Reid sat up a little in bed and winced at the jarring of the ribs, "Yes, yes we are. How is Aaron?"

"We're wheeling him into recovery now. He was put through the wringer; a dislocated shoulder, a fracture to the right orbit and zygomatic arch, several cracked ribs, one broken, and an epidural hematoma- these are each pretty significant on their own, we had to burr-hole him to relieve the pressure from the head injury, but, the good news is, we were able to cauterize the bleed. That said, he is going to be in a bit of pain and he won't be able to take just anything. We're admitting him for observation but in a few days, he should be good to go home and recover."

"That's great…" Reid smiled, his face faltered. "Morgan, I need you to call the moving company, I want to push up the delivery date to tomorrow. If I have to unpack the place myself- I want Hotch to come HOME…"

"Pretty-boy, did you take a knock to the head we didn't know about? You have broken ribs and just had surgery yourself. Blood transfusions too, let's not forget. You're not in any shape to…"

Reid's pout cut his friend's tirade mid-sentence. The older man rolled his eyes.

"That is abusive to use those on me like that." He laughed, letting his pearly white teeth show forth, "Alright, I'll make some calls and get some rooms unpacked. But I get to be your first official house guest, because I'm not leaving both of your asses alone until you ARE cleared."

CM

True to his word, three days later when the team helped haul Hotch and Reid back to their new home, Morgan had the bedroom essentials unpacked, Jack and Aunt Jess were still working on his bedroom's personal effects, but the heavy lifting was over and done with long before Aaron and Spencer hobbled in.

As promised, or strong-armed, Garcia had a file and an iPad adorned in the e-version of the debriefing. It included the unsub's information, acquired post-mortem.

Hotch looked at the folder as Reid flipped through it, he looked at the iPad himself.

"Robin Scotts. Age 43, lived in Burbank, CA until 2003 when he was laid off from ADT. That same year his wife filed for divorce and petitioned for sole custody of their son Robert after Robert was diagnosed with non-hodgkin's b-cell lymphoma. After the diagnosis, Robin disappeared off the grid but sent money to his wife's parents for the treatment and child support. Robert went into remission a few years ago. Robin had a juvenile record for car theft but after he turned 18 he straightened up, went to college, played football in a first-division school until he blew out his knee senior year and finished with a degree in business."

"So he stole to provide for his sick kid?" Reid crossed his arms.

"Looks like." Hotch put his good arm on Reid's shoulder.

"So he took the easy way out and killed people because it was countered by all the good he was doing for his kid who he didn't even see?" It was clear as day where Reid was about to go with this to Hotch.

"Clearly, he was father of the year material…"

"So why was he so paranoid? I don't see anything from his childhood about CPS or any incident reports from his juvi-record. It doesn't add up."

Aaron let out a self-depreciating smile, "You and I both know sometimes those records don't exist even when the cases did."

Jack ran into the room. "Daddy!" he carefully climbed into his dad's lap. "Are you okay?"

"I'm going to be, how's your room?"

"Mr. Morgan helped me put it together, but we can't find my books."

"I'll help you in a little while Jack." Reid smiled. Jack moved so he sat on Reid's lap.

"It's great isn't it Spencer."

"Best house ever. Now I think we need to give your Dad a little time to rest."

Jack nodded and crawled down from the sofa. He ran off in the direction of Morgan.

Spencer sat on the couch, the piles and piles and piles of boxes of books in his periphery, he smirked at Morgan and offered him some ibuprofen for his back.

"Thanks," he said dryly. "Nice place you got here. I'm going to check out the guest room for a bit. If either of you touch one of these boxes I know where you live now. So just rest up. Come on Jack, my man."

Spencer waited until Morgan was out of earshot before he whispered to Aaron, "So I shouldn't put up the lavender drapes just yet…?"

"I guess not. Let's just give the new neighbors a small show." He gave Spencer a gentle kiss on the lips before he settled into the couch exhausted.

Fin.

A/N: The series is still on-going, but a few of these next ones will be independent projects from IcePrince1 and from Vanessa S. Quest, so please keep checking us both, and, please R & R! Thanks guys!


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